The Centurion let out a piercing shriek and lunged at the lone shadow, slamming its scythe into the stone-hard ground. Again and again it struck, trying to carve the slithering darkness apart.
And then... it stopped.
The creature hesitated, its posture tensing. It tilted its grotesque head, scanning its surroundings.
Did it realize it can't hurt the shadow and is now looking for its source?
Sunny's eyes narrowed.
'Its intelligence is on par with a demon... maybe even more.'
That thought chilled him more than he liked to admit.
It was an anomaly, a deviant, something that didn't exist in the timeline he knew, a creature that shouldn't exist.
He didn't know what had made it appear, but he didn't have time for idle theories.
It moved again, its gaze snapping toward the coral where Sunny and his Echo waited.
Sunny exhaled slowly. It was time.
His shadow retreated, curling itself around the Echo just as the creature came near. Sunny's Echo itself was an anomaly. Despite not being converted into a shadow, it was somehow able to get augmented by his shadow. It had proved to be an immense boon in this crimson hell. And now, it will prove its real worth.
The twisted Centurion had no time to react—only to feel the impact of the scythes slashing through the air.
Shrieeekk!
The abomination reeled back, its scythes raised in defense. But the Echo was relentless. Its movements were fluid, almost elegant, like the blades were not weapons but natural extensions of its own being.
Scythe met scythe. Then came another. And another.
The Centurion raising a scythe just in time to intercept the incoming blow. Its other blade shot forward in retaliation, aiming straight for the Echo's chest.
But the Echo twisted. One of its scythes swept out in a smooth arc, deflecting the attack wide. With a brutal snap of motion, it slammed its head into its foe.
Both abominations staggered. And then they glared at each other. Madness burned in their eyes.
The Echo twisted, turning its entire body into a weaponized dance. The first blade came in high, targeting the Centurion's shoulder. The monster countered with its own.
The second strike followed, sweeping low, aiming to cripple. A flash of sparks flew as the Centurion barely deflected it.
Then came the next. And the next.
Slash. Slash. Slash.
Pierce. Pierce. Pierce.
Blades collided in a storm of violence.
For a moment, the battle devolved into chaos—each strike blending into the next, a rhythmic dance of death. Their scythes became a blur of chitin and shadow, ringing in an eerie, discordant symphony.
Neither gave ground. Neither relented.
The Echo was empowered by Sunny's shadow, but the Centurion didn't falter. Its eyes glinted with cold, calculating madness.
Behind its crazed eyes was a mind working overtime, dissecting every strike, every pattern.
Sunny's jaw clenched.
'In your dreams, bastard.'
With a flash of steel, he joined the fray. He struck from the side, his twin blades slicing through the air like vipers.
The Centurion flinched.
Its focus had been entirely on the Echo. If it turned to face Sunny, the Echo will overpower it. If it ignored the Echo, his blades would land.
It was a lose-lose situation.
So it made a choice Sunny didn't expect.
The Centurion twisted its torso and bent low, dodging the Echo's killing blow by a hair. One of its side legs snapped up, intercepting Sunny's strike with jarring force.
Clang!
A shockwave rippled through Sunny's arms.
'Tch. Strong.'
But still...
It had made a mistake.
It thought the Echo was the true threat. And obviously so. The Echo outmatched Sunny in brute force.
A vicious grin spread across Sunny's face.
'You'll regret underestimating me, wretch.'
Sunny twisted his blades and leapt. His feet hit the ground near the Centurion's massive leg joint with a thud. Wasting no time, he raised one of his swords and flowed his arms with essence.
With a fierce cry, he brought the blade down.
CRACK!
The joint groaned under the force, a crack forming in the dense chitin. The abomination reeled, but before Sunny could press the advantage, a scythe whistled through the air—aiming straight for his skull.
Sunny rolled, narrowly avoiding the killing blow. He flipped to his feet, twisting midair, and landed beside his Echo.
'Tch. Tougher than those pests.'
A normal Centurion's limb would have been severed clean. This one merely bled—a thin trickle seeping from the cracked joint—but showed no sign of permanent damage.
The Centurion recoiled for a second, but a second was all he needed.
He and the Echo launched forward, striking in perfect synchrony. The Echo's scythes struck in tandem with Sunny's blades, their combined assault like a storm crashing against stone.
And for a heartbeat, it looked like they had it.
But then the Centurion shrieked.
Its scythes swung like swords—fluid, precise. With a practiced motion, it parried the Echo's attack. Then it twisted its body and intercepted Sunny's twin blades with the other.
Sunny's eyes narrowed.
'This bastard...'
It was learning. It was adopting. In mere moments, it had deciphered the Echo's rough approximation of Morgan's battle style.
The Echo reeled from the impact. Sunny lashed out, landing a shallow strike against the Centurion's flank before retreating. He ended up beside his Echo again, glancing at it with a hint of mockery.
"This thing's more talented than you."
The Echo didn't respond. It simply rose and lunged back into battle—just a little faster than before. Its strikes flowed a little better, its movements a bit sharper. A little closer to Morgan's cold, lethal elegance.
Sunny shook his head with a dark smirk and followed suit.
The battle raged on.
At first, the Echo fought on equal footing. But soon, the Centurion began to dominate. Its monstrous strength matched the Echo's augmented might. But now, its movements countered the Echo's own. It had learned its rhythm, its flaws, its hesitation.
Every strike the Echo launched was met with quicker parries. Every gap in its defense was exploited with precision.
If not for Sunny, the Echo would have been torn apart. Any other sleeper would have been easily dominated. That's because most of them were only proficient in a single battle style.
But Sunny was no ordinary sleeper.
"Try to decipher me, bastard."
The Centurion shrieked in frustration, its scythes swinging with terrifying momentum. It was trying—desperately—to read him.
And failing.
Sunny had no single style. He had a storm of killing patterns woven into a chaotic masterpiece.
Each time the abomination thought it understood him, Sunny changed. He struck with the precision of a duelist one moment, then the brutal aggression of a brawler the next. He moved like a dancer, then like a berserker. Every motion baited the creature, lured it into a false sense of control—only to betray it the next second.
Its intelligence became its weakness. He wanted it to read him. So he could deceive. So he could trap. And he did.
A suddenly twisted in a feint, exploiting the opportunity. His sword drove into the Centurion's leg, piercing flesh and chitin.
The creature staggered, shrieking.
Sunny pressed forward, putting all his weight behind the blade. It didn't sever the leg—damn thing was built like a fortress—but it unbalanced the creature.
And that was enough.
The Echo lunged. It crashed into the Centurion with terrifying force, sending both tumbling across the ground.
The Centurion shrieked as pain lanced through its cracked limb.
Sunny was already there. His blades rose. Essence surged. He struck. Again. And again.
The abomination thrashed, but the Echo held it down, its own body twisted into a vice grip of limbs and scythes.
Sunny raised both swords.
"Die, you wretch!"
His blades came down like executioner's axes.
With a final, decisive strike, the Centurion's leg gave way.
CRACK!
The severed limb collapsed to the ground with a thud, ichor spilling like ink into the sand. The abomination let out a shriek that pierced the still air, then thrashed violently—scythes flailing, limbs clawing at the ground.
But Sunny didn't let it writhe in peace.
His twin blades danced, raining down a relentless barrage on its scythe—each strike precise, focused, merciless. Steel met chitin again and again, every blow hammering into the joint that anchored the limb to its twisted body.
Then, suddenly, the Centurion stilled. It didn't resist. It didn't fight. It simply... lay there.
Sunny frowned.
'That's not right.'
Nightmare Creatures didn't stop struggling. They fought to the bitter end, driven by hunger and madness. They didn't freeze. They didn't surrender.
But this one... was different.
It made him question everything he knew about these monsters. It was intelligent. It was stronger than its kind should be. It had shown emotion.
And all of it circled back to that one, damned mark.
He took a step back, eyes narrowing as they fell upon the strange symbol carved into its chitinous faceplate—a complex tangle of circles and squares, etched deep into the shell.
And for just a moment, the pattern seemed to writhe like it was alive.
Sunny's grip tightened.
'That symbol... it's not just a marking. It's something more. A brand? A curse? A command?'
The urge to keep it alive pulsed in his mind.
If he could study the pattern—understand what it was, what it meant—maybe he'd learn something about the other variables. About what that mad bastard had planned. About whatever the hell was messing with the timeline.
Maybe even about himself...
He hesitated.
And that was his worst mistake.
The Centurion moved.
Its remaining scythe lashed out—not toward him, but toward the ground.
A sharp crack echoed as the blade struck a stone near Sunny's feet, pulverizing it into a cloud of dust and debris.
Sunny reacted instantly, stepping in to finish the limb... but too late. The Centurion launched the dust into his face.
He coughed, eyes instinctively shutting.
"Ugh, what—"
And then something slammed into his gut like a battering ram.
WHAM.
The air was driven from his lungs as he was sent flying backwards. He landed hard, rolled once, and came to a skidding stop.
By the time he blinked away the grit and cleared his vision, the Centurion was already breaking free of the Echo's grip.
It turned—and ran. Fast. Far too fast for despite its missing limb.
Sunny clicked his tongue in frustration.
His instincts screamed at him to follow. He knew that letting this creature escape would come back to haunt him. This wasn't just some random anomaly. It was a piece of a puzzle he hadn't yet begun to understand.
But—
'Nephis can't beat a Centurion on her own.'
If the girls were attacked while he was gone...
His fists clenched.
He stared at the Centurion's retreating form, teeth grinding.
The bastard was getting away. And there was no way to stop it.
If only—
Something flashed next to him. A blade shot past his head, so fast it left a golden blur in the air.
No... not a blur. A rope.
The blade struck the ground just in front of the Centurion. The golden rope connected to its hilt snapped taut—right as the creature's legs tangled in it.
CRASH.
The Centurion toppled, crashing down in a flailing mess of limbs and ichor.
Behind Sunny, a familiar voice rang out.
"We can catch it if we hurry."
Sunny didn't turn around.
Instead, he sprang onto the Echo's shoulder without a word. A moment later, another presence landed beside him—Nephis. Her hair trailed behind her like fire, and in her hand, a new sword shimmered into existence.
The Echo lunged forward, carrying them both across the battlefield in swift, fluid strides.
Sunny exhaled. There were questions he wanted to ask her—needed to ask—but now wasn't the time.
Ahead of them, the Centurion writhed on the ground, its form tangled in glowing golden rope. It screeched and clawed at the sand, trying to rise.
Too late. The three of them were already upon it.
And then the beatdown began.
"Be careful," Sunny warned, striking at the creature's shoulder joint. "This bastard is more intelligent than a demon."
Nephis chuckled.
"That's why it managed to throw dirt in your face."
Sunny's face darkened.
He kicked the creature's skull in irritation, then began hacking away at its scythe.
"...You didn't see anything."
The Centurion shrieked again. It flailed, struggling against the bindings, but the Echo held it down with unrelenting force. Its limbs were crushed beneath its weight, its scythes pinned uselessly to the side. Nephis's golden rope shimmered faintly as their swords dug deeper into the chitin.
Whatever hesitation Sunny had about keeping it alive was cast into the deepest pit of hell. Not after it had embarrassed him in front of her.
[You have slain an Awakened Monster, Carapace Centurion.]
[Your shadow grows stronger.]
Sunny wiped his blades clean with a flick of his wrists.
"This thing gave me more trouble than that damn Corrupted Shark Devil..."
Sure, the only reason that fight had gone smoothly was weeks of planning and prep—but still. A mere Centurion had no business being this tough.
He turned to Nephis at last. She dismissed the golden rope with a gesture, her pale eyes meeting his calmly.
"What took you so long?"
She paused.
"...A scavenger attacked us."
Her voice was soft. Quiet. Almost... guilty?
Sunny tilted his head, eyes narrowing.
Was she blaming herself for not reaching him in time? Or was there more to it?
He arched an eyebrow. "Is there something else I should know about? Surely a scavenger couldn't have kept you busy that long."
Before she could respond—
Crrrreeeaaak.
A sharp, wet sound sliced through the silence.
Sunny turned toward it—just in time to see the Echo, hunched over the Centurion's corpse.
Its claws split the chitinous armor effortlessly, and with a guttural snarl, it began devouring the abomination's flesh. Bones cracked. Viscera spilled. Chitin shattered as the Echo gorged itself, slurping and gnashing like a ravenous beast.
Sunny's eyes widened.
"What the hell—no, wait—!"
But the Echo didn't respond. It didn't flinch. It didn't even acknowledge him. It fed with maddening hunger, stuffing itself with blood and bone, as if possessed.
By the time Sunny even thought about dismissing it, it was already too late.
The Echo lurched upright. It raised its scythes, trembling. A strange, crackling energy surged through its form.
A symbol bloomed across its face.
That same cursed pattern—the one etched into the Centurion's carapace. Circles and squares. Shifting. Alive.
Sunny froze, dread crawling up his spine.
'Did it... become sentient?'
Had the symbol infected it like a virus? Was it still his Echo... or had something else taken root inside?
The creature stared back—its expression twisted, its inhuman eyes glimmering with something he had never seen before.
It was an emotion Sunny couldn't place.
Nephis stepped beside him, her sword raised.
Did his echo just turn on him?
Damnation.
AN: I am very happy with yall commenting regularly on the fic on both platforms. Here's an early chapter :)
Let's aim for 10 comments this time, and 2 new reviews! (20 total)