The creature's movement was sudden—erratic, like a beast with no control over its own body, as if it had been cursed to exist in such a twisted form. It lunged toward Seyfe with terrifying speed, its massive body crashing toward him like a falling mountain.
Seyfe's instincts kicked in just in time. He dove to the side, rolling through the sand and debris, narrowly avoiding the horrific impact as the creature's jagged claws scraped across the earth, sending shards of rock and sand flying into the air. The ground trembled beneath him, but Seyfe barely registered it, his focus solely on the creature now looming just beyond him.
His heart hammered in his chest as he scrambled to his feet, eyes wide with panic. The creature's many eyes—those dreadful, twitching, bleeding orbs—locked onto him in an instant. They were filled with an unnatural hunger, a hunger that was not of this world, and Seyfe could feel the weight of that gaze bearing down on him, like the creature was stripping him of his very soul.
It wasn't just looking at him. It was hunting him.
Seyfe's breath caught in his throat. He had no time to think, no time to plan. Every second felt like an eternity as the creature shifted its massive, twisted body, its mechanical parts grinding and sparking in the air. Its mouth opened wide, but it didn't scream—it only released a low, guttural growl that echoed across the barren landscape, the sound so inhuman it sent a chill straight down his spine.
Before he could react, the creature lunged again, its maw snapping shut with terrifying speed. Seyfe dove to the side once more, the rush of air from the creature's attack nearly knocking him off his feet. His breath was ragged, pain gnawing at his side where he had been grazed by the creature's claws. Blood seeped through his torn sleeve, but he couldn't afford to stop. Not now.
The creature's eyes followed him, relentless, hungry. It let out another bone-rattling screech, and this time, the ground beneath them cracked open, as though the very earth itself was being torn apart by the creature's presence.
Seyfe barely had a moment to think. His mind raced, calculating.
Where can I go? What can I do?
Seyfe's mind raced, desperately trying to think of a way out, a way to survive. His body, though battered and worn, pushed forward, moving instinctively as the creature loomed over him. But just as his thoughts started to piece together a plan, the air around him shifted.
A terrible, grinding sound filled the space, and before he could react, the creature's massive, rusted wings unfurled with a sickening snap.
It happened in an instant.
The creature's wings swept through the air, a jagged, decaying blur of metal and bone, and before Seyfe could even brace himself, he was struck with a force that sent him flying backward. The impact was brutal—a raw, unforgiving blow that tore through his already bruised body. His ribs screamed in protest as he was hurled through the air, his feet leaving the ground, his vision spinning.
The sound of his own breath, ragged and desperate, was drowned out by the crash of his body colliding with the debris-ridden ground. His back slammed into a pile of crumbling stone, and the sharp pain that followed made his entire body tremble in agony.
For a moment, everything was a blur. His body felt like it was on fire, the pain from his injuries overwhelming him. He gasped for air, struggling to breathe, his ribs aching with every shallow inhale. But even as his body screamed for rest, his mind snapped back to the baby—the only thing that mattered now.
He couldn't let it die.
His vision cleared just in time to see the creature, its grotesque form looming above him, its eyes locked onto him with an intensity that felt like it was cutting through him. Its wings flapped again, sending another gust of decaying wind his way, the stench of rot overwhelming him as it closed in.
Seyfe pushed himself up with everything he had left, his arms shaking with the effort. Blood trickled down his face from a gash on his forehead, and his vision wavered as dizziness set in.
I can't die here. Not like this.
Every inch of Seyfe's body screamed in agony, but the thought of the baby—fragile and innocent—kept him moving. He couldn't fail now, not when the life of the child depended on him.
The grotesque creature loomed overhead, its eyes narrowing in hunger as it closed in, its claws scraping the ground, sending sparks and fragments of stone scattering in every direction. Its massive form was too close, too powerful. Each step it took made the earth tremble beneath Seyfe's trembling limbs.
He could hear its growls—low and guttural—as it lunged again, its maw snapping with ferocious speed. The teeth were sharp, too sharp. It wanted him, needed him, but Seyfe was not ready to be devoured.
With a final, desperate cry, Seyfe shoved himself forward, using the last of his strength to crawl toward the exposed wires—the same ones that had briefly allowed him to fight back against the fowl birds. His fingers scraped against the sand and jagged stones as he pulled himself forward, his breaths ragged and shallow. Every movement felt like it was draining him, but his mind focused solely on the goal: the electricity.
The creature was almost on top of him now, its shadow cast over his body like a death sentence. Its claws were ready to strike. Seyfe's blood ran cold, but he didn't stop.
He reached the wires, his heart racing in his chest. With his good hand, he grabbed the exposed cables, feeling the raw surge of power crackle beneath his fingers. The pain was immediate—sharp, searing—but he didn't flinch. Not now.
Using the sleeve wrapped around his hand as a shield, he yanked the wires from the ground, the electricity coursing through them like a living thing. The sound of crackling energy filled the air, louder than the creature's growls, louder than the pounding of his heart.
Seyfe swung the wires with everything he had, the raw power coursing through him, sending arcs of lightning into the creature's decayed, flesh-metal body. The impact was immediate. The creature shrieked, a horrific sound that echoed across the desert of ruins as the electricity surged through its twisted form. Sparks flew from the mechanical parts embedded in its body, and the many eyes blinked in confusion, blinking blood as the power ripped through its flesh.
The creature staggered back, momentarily stunned, its form jerking violently as if it were caught in an electric vice. Its wings flapped erratically, sending waves of wind and debris in every direction.
Seyfe barely had time to breathe, but he didn't stop. He swung again, this time aiming for its head, the electrical surge lighting up the twisted creature's face, searing through its black, dripping eyes. The creature's movements grew more erratic, its cries more frantic, but Seyfe kept swinging, his arm burning, his body trembling under the strain.
Finally, with a guttural roar, the creature collapsed, its body convulsing in spasms as the last of the power coursed through it. The air around them crackled with static before the creature went still, its limbs twitching before going completely limp.
Seyfe, panting and bloodied, collapsed onto the sand, his heart still racing, his breath shallow. The battle had ended—at least for now—but he couldn't afford to relax.
Seyfe staggered back, his blood-soaked hands still clutching the exposed wires, the crackling remnants of electricity still sizzling in the air. He watched with wide, incredulous eyes as the creature's mechanical parts began to crumble, falling away like rusted husks. But what lay beneath was far worse—its rotting flesh, slick with decay, was exposed now, more grotesque than any nightmare Seyfe had ever imagined.
The stench hit him like a physical blow—rank, fetid, and suffocating. But it wasn't the smell that stopped him dead in his tracks.
One of the creature's many eyes—now bloated and distorted—shifted. Slowly, it turned to face him, locking onto him with an unnerving intensity. There was no longer any sign of the mechanical malice it had once embodied; instead, the eye was filled with something far worse: pure, animalistic rage.
It was still alive. Still aware. It had shed its second life, but its hunger was far from quenched.