"He's thinking about crushing me," Dorian murmured, as the natural ceiling drew closer and closer to his head, as the Apex's shadow grew over him. "But more importantly, how can that bastard launch himself to such a height? He's several tons of mass. It shouldn't be possible."
There was no time for questions.
Tsk.
Dorian didn't wait.
The instant the Apex began its ascent, he was already moving. A somersault in the air, a full rotation of his body to change orientation, to stop falling on his back and fall face-first. He dove downward, accelerating his fall, wanting to reach the ground before the monster.
He rolled.
Once, twice, three times.
His body slammed into the ground and rolled, the exosuit's multilayers absorbing part of the impact, his arms protecting his head, his legs bending at impossible angles.
He felt the impact behind him.
The ground shook as if an earthquake had awoken.
Dust rose in a giant cloud.
Rock fragments flew everywhere like shrapnel.
Boom!
The Apex had fallen.
In an instant, as if it had hooked a grapple—or one had shot out of it—onto the ceiling and let itself drop. Or maybe it had simply jumped and used its own mass as a weapon.
A dust cloud covered everything.
Dorian didn't hesitate.
"It's now or never," he declared, as he lunged into the cloud, toward where the monster had landed. "It's now or yesterday. There won't be another moment like this. Never. Otherwise I'll have missed a great opportunity."
He ran forward.
His feet barely touched the ground, propelled by the red medicine, by adrenaline, by necessity. His sword, charged up to his head, ready for the final blow. His eyes fixed on a single point: the Apex's silhouette emerging from the dust cloud.
The jaw.
He was going for the jaw.
"Descending diagonal cut!"
The energy blade whistled through the air.
Or maybe it was just the electric hiss of the sword cutting through the dust, piercing the cloud, finding its target.
SLASH!
The cut was clean.
Precise.
Lethal.
One of the Apex's mandibles flew through the air, spinning on itself like a leaf in the wind, before hitting the ground with a dull thud.
And then...
Shhhhh!
Green blood began to gush from the wound like a waterfall.
A river of poison that fell to the ground and began to burn the rock, to dissolve it, creating small smoking cavities. Smoke rose in twisted columns, carrying a smell… nauseating. Indescribable. As if a thousand rotting bodies had been mixed with battery acid.
Dorian quickly stepped back, his boots finding purchase on the uneven ground. He moved out of range of the poison, the splashes, the smoke. He watched.
Sir, Omega's voice sounded in his mind, analytical, cold, processing data at the speed of light. I recommend cutting off the limbs at the curved parts of the Apex. The joints. That's where it's weaker. Although thick, they are less resistant compared to other parts that might be considered vulnerable points.
"I was thinking the same thing," Dorian replied, a small smile appearing on his lips despite everything. "But still, thanks for telling me."
...
"Come on, Omega, I complimented you, didn't I?" Dorian complained, sarcasm seeping into his voice. "Aren't I a good boy?"
There was no answer. Omega knew when to ignore his jokes.
After a sigh, he ran toward the Apex once more.
He slid.
Under the monster's belly.
The space was tight, barely enough for his body to fit. The smell down there was worse, much worse, a mix of ancient blood, rotting flesh, and that green poison dripping from the severed mandible.
His sword sought one of the limbs.
He found the joint—that perfect curve Omega had mentioned—and cut with all his strength.
But the cut wasn't effective.
The blade got stuck.
Shit!
The Apex began to spin.
Its massive body moved with an agility it shouldn't possess.
The legs, the claws, everything spun around him like the blades of a giant windmill. Dorian had to dodge, duck, move constantly to avoid being crushed.
"This damned thing won't let me do anything to it, then," Dorian kept complaining, as the monster always found a way to counter him. "Always. Always finds a way."
Dorian had to get out of there.
Fast.
He rolled to the side.
He felt a claw graze his back, felt the displaced air, death—again—passing close, caressing him with its cold fingers.
Sir, Omega's voice urgent, pressing. The sword is losing energy. I recommend using that.
Dorian understood instantly.
"When you say 'that,' do you mean them?" he asked, as he stood up and backed away, maintaining distance, evaluating, calculating.
Yes, that. I know it's not very advisable. You've been using the suit a lot, Omega began another analysis, processing data, showing graphs in his vision. All those Helion pulses you used have greatly depleted the suit's energy reserves. But there's no choice. The probability of success without them is below 15%. With them, it rises to 67%.
Dorian smiled.
A dangerous smile.
A battle smile.
The smile of someone who knows they're going all in.
"Alright. Let's do it."
The blade on the hilt went dark, the energy retreating from it in a bluish sigh. Dorian sheathed it on his thigh with a quick movement, feeling the familiar weight of the weapon at rest.
"Mode 'Dual Sword Energy' activated," he repeated, as his smile grew wider, more intense, almost twisted. "Let's see what these beasts are capable of."
Blue lights emerged from the combat suit.
From holes in the dorsal compartments, those that were normally closed, sealed, waiting for this moment. Energy flowed like water, like contained lightning, like life itself. Small electric arcs jumped between the suit's plates, illuminating the crater's darkness with blinding flashes.
From the compartments, two extensions of pure energy emerged, forming twin swords that floated at Dorian's sides, connected to the suit by thin threads of light. They were extensions of his will, weapons that responded to his thoughts.
Dorian clenched his fists.
He felt the control.
He felt the power coursing through every fiber of his being.
His green eyes lit up with their own glow, reflecting the blue light of the swords.
His twisted smile spread further and further across his face.
"Very well. Let's end this."
Speed Boost activated, Omega murmured, and Dorian felt the world slow down around him.
His speed increased.
Time stretched like hot taffy.
He could see the dust particles floating in the air, could see the Apex's eyes moving slowly, could see every detail of its carapace, every imperfection, every possible weak point.
And…
He launched himself.
Straight at the Apex.
A fraction of a second.
That was all he needed.
He slid under the monster.
His energy swords—extensions of his arms, extensions of his will—sang.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
Five.
Six.
The Apex's six limbs were severed from its body in a single fluid motion, as if they had always been destined to fall. The left blade cut three, the right the other three, in a perfect choreography that only boosted speed could allow.
The beast didn't even notice.
Dorian stopped on the other side.
The energy swords from the dorsal compartments contracted slightly, readjusting. His hands touched the ground, using the momentum to turn.
He pushed off again.
Back toward the monster.
The swords emerged again.
Swish-swish-swish-swish.
He cut the side.
Moved up the body.
Reached the mandibles.
The metallic sound of energy cutting through flesh and bone filled the air, a symphony of destruction.
He did a full rotation.
A 360-degree spin in the air.
And cut.
The remaining mandibles fell to the ground, one after another, like rotten fruit.
But then...
Shiark!
A green liquid gushed from the wounds.
Not blood.
Something thicker.
More dangerous.
A viscous fluid that seemed to have a life of its own, writhing in the air before falling to the ground.
"What the hell?" Dorian retreated, activating all his reflexes. "Poison! Shit, it's poison! It's the damn poison I saw before!"
Sir, Omega's voice, urgent as never before. This poison is highly toxic. It can melt heavy metals. Keep your suit away from it at all costs.
"Ha, ha!" Dorian laughed, but it wasn't a laugh of joy. It was a laugh of recognition. Of respect. "That bastard is very cunning. He let me get confident so he could use his poison. He really is very cunning."
He had seen it earlier, small amounts in the wounds, in the severed mandibles, but because he was focused on how to defeat the Apex, he had overlooked it. The monster had been saving its secret weapon for the right moment.
He observed the Apex.
The beast lay on the ground, mutilated, its six limbs scattered around it, its mandibles destroyed, but still alive. Still dangerous. Its multiple eyes watched him with a hatred that hadn't diminished, with a fury that only grew.
"But I don't have to worry too much," Dorian murmured, evaluating the situation. "You're on your last legs. And I'm grateful you don't have regeneration. That would be a real headache."
He smiled.
A mocking smile, almost affectionate.
"I recommend you close your mouth," he ordered the monster, as the energy swords retracted. "Oops. Oh, I forgot. You can't close it. I already cut one off."
He retracted the energy swords completely. The dorsal compartments sealed with a metallic click. Dual mode required a lot of energy, too much, and he couldn't afford to waste more than necessary.
From one of his suit's tool pockets, he took out a small sphere.
It was no bigger than a ping-pong ball, made of a grayish metal with small blue flashes inside. Tiny flashes, almost imperceptible, barely hinting at what would happen in the next few seconds.
He threw it.
The sphere flew in a perfect arc, tracing a parabola that carried it directly into the Apex's open mouth. The monster didn't even try to dodge; it couldn't, not with its limbs scattered on the ground, not with its mandibles destroyed.
Dorian watched the abomination writhe on the ground and, with a lopsided smile, gave it the middle finger while the blue light began to glow inside its mouth.
And he turned around.
"See you later, bastard," he declared, starting to walk.
"BOOM!"