"How disappointing. A gift of foresight but no magic. Pathetic!"
A deep voice cut through the ringing in my ears.
Foresight? I don't even have that. All I have is predictive text and painted markers showing it. I thought, as my consciousness flickered in and out like a dying lightbulb. My whole body was aching — every bone, every muscle screaming. An iron taste filled my mouth. Blood, I guessed. I couldn't move. Felt too battered. I think this is what pinikpikan feels like.
Aaah, pinikpikan — a Cordilleran dish where you beat the hell out of a chicken, burn it, toss it, then cook it. Delicious. Great metaphor, brain. Real literary.
"Get away from him!" shouted Kala in alarm.
"Shut up, eyeball!"
A sound of scuffling ensued.
"Why you— eek!"
Kala went silent.
Oh no. Kiko! Kala is in danger! Wake up! I told myself in a daze, but my limbs wouldn't respond. They were jelly. Burnt, bloody jelly.
"I'll deal with you later," the deep voice continued, growing closer. "Now let's proceed to the main dish."
I forced my eyes open. The faint light of dawn stung them in a blur. My left eye was reddened. Great. Perfect.
"Let… let… L… Let him go!" I managed under my breath, chest muscles protesting every syllable.
Kala was meters to my right, held down by skeletons and zombies trying to break free. He was overwhelmed — arms pinned, legs kicked uselessly against the forming circle of undead.
"Wh… wh… What's that?!" NakedFlesh asked mockingly and laughed maniacally. Now just a few meters away, he stood in full purple lich regalia: skull face, thorns like a crown digging into his forehead, searing eyes that glowed like dying stars, purple robes flowing over what looked like black studded leather underneath. His undead horse under him wore full plate armor. Damn. It was menacingly awesome looking. I wanted it for myself.
Focus, Kiko! I commanded myself.
I used every ounce of energy and willpower to push myself up. Staggering. Debris falling off me like confetti at a funeral. Thank god, I had no broken bones. Game-like mechanics? Maybe. I wasn't sure. I didn't have time to figure it out. What I needed was to get back on my feet and defend myself — and save Kala.
And then I saw it. The coolest part of this damn lich.
He levitated off his undead horse. I repeat — he levitated off the horse while its scepter was glowing. His robes waved in an unseen wind, and then his leather boots — adorned with gems and sewn with intricate designs, stained with blood — touched the ground. Though he was a lich, bones and all, he moved with style. Absolute style.
My whole body protested. Then I was able to kneel forward, staggering nearly face-planting onto the dirt, but managed to save myself from embarrassment using my right hand. Blood dropped to the ground from my head. Each drop a tiny warning bell.
"Poor little fallen one!" NakedFlesh said in a mockingly pitiful tone. "Don't worry, I will end your miserable existence and claim your power by making you useful… as my undead servant, that is!"
And out of nowhere, he began to wave and do some dance moves out of glee. "Who gets another servant? Me!" Pointing at himself, continuing to dance from left to right. "Oh yeah! Oh yeah, that's me!"
It was damn awkward. Burning buildings in the background. Tentacles made of muscles and bones lashing everywhere. Undead rising from the earth. Bone walls lining the alley. And him. Doing dance moves. In the middle of apocalyptic carnage.
"Uhk," I coughed, spitting blood. "You're hurting my eyes with your rigor mortis!" I made it as insulting as possible. "Even your rotting besties agrees with me!"
"Oh yeah?" NakedFlesh stared at his undead minions and snapped his fingers. I don't know how it made a sound — maybe necromancy amplifies everything — but it did. A sharp crack that echoed through the devastation.
The undead began to move into formation. The ones on the bone walls started rocking their heads to an unheard/invisible beat. Some skeletons and zombies snapped their fingers and clapped as audiences. A few broke away from the horde and joined the lich like backup dancers.
Okay, I'll admit, I thought, they move synchronized.It looked like a Bollywood production thriller style, minus the Michael Jackson moves. Of course they can't do that — no budget for his signature moves.
"How 'bout' now?" NakedFlesh giggled. "Jealous? Don't worry, you'll be part of the dance routine soon enough." He did a spinning ballerina move — surprisingly graceful for a walking skeleton — then stomped the floor with his golden staff. The impact produced a loud thud that stopped their dance routine instantly. Every undead froze in place.
"Sorry, but I have to decline your invitation!" I staggered to my feet. Looking at my sword in the distance, punctured and standing upright in the ground like Excalibur waiting for its king. I tried to put up my head, ready to do a Force Pull to retrieve it, but stumbled. Something caught in my lung and I coughed again. More blood.
"Oh, what did you just say?" He tilted his skull. "You accept my invitation?" He clapped merrily and pointed the edge of his glowing staff directly at me. Diagrams began to glow and etch in circular rotation around the tip, arcane symbols spinning faster and faster. "This will just hurt a little."
I know skulls can't smile, I thought, but I clearly saw him smile.
Heightened Awareness:
Attack: Bone Spear
The attack directing line stretched toward me — a crimson trajectory painting the air between us.
"Oh, snap." I couldn't move. An impending doom feeling stretched across my chest, asking myself: So this is how it ends, huh?
"Get… get… off!" Kala struggled beneath the weight of undead bodies pressing him into the dirt. His eyes — wide, worried — locked onto mine. But he was overwhelmed, pinned so hard he couldn't break free.
Finally, the red mark reached me. Here it comes, I thought. I accepted my fate.
Then fireballs rained down from above.
They hit near us — detonating against skeletons and zombies, splatting them in explosions of gore and ash. The bone walls took hits too, chunks of ribcage and femur shrapnel scattering everywhere. The huts around us erupted in flame and collapse.
Zombies and skeletons, caught between the fire and their master, ran toward NakedFlesh and began creating a shield of flesh and bones — interlocking bodies, layer upon layer, becoming living fortification.
"Now what?" said NakedFlesh, looking the other way and cancelling his attack. His eyes narrowed from looking up at the sky, irritation curling his lipless mouth.
In a clear state of panic, he yelled, "Veins of the Undergod, heed me!" He pointed his staff downward in a circular motion held by his right hand and waved his left. Magical diagrams spun on the tip of his staff as he conjured — right hand tracing an eight-shaped pattern in the air, symbols burning purple into the atmosphere.
Tentacles of flesh and bone erupted from the ground in front of him, peppered debris flying everywhere, ultimately arching upward to form a protective canopy covering him entirely. A cocoon of darkness and horror.
Then I saw it.
Heightened Awareness:
Magic Attack: Hammer of Light
My heightened awareness drew a red circle spreading around him fast — a targeting ring closing in, painting his location before the strike landed.
"Graaaa!" he screamed.
The explosion of light consumed everything.