Right, Ali Baba had fallen. Malik had failed to protect him. Protect her. ...He didn't know exactly what happened after that. He likely didn't even bother saving Layla. But he knew one thing that happened. A blood-drenched, bone-deep rage had consumed him. His breath shook. His vision swam. The world twisted, narrowed, darkened. The pain in his shoulder, in his back, and the burning in his thigh—it didn't matter anymore. They should've known not to kill Ali Baba. They should've known not to touch his people. Great was the rage of a quiet man. A bandit came at him, blade raised. Malik caught the sword with his left hand. Steel bit into his palm, splitting flesh to the bone. But he didn't seem to register it. With a yank, he tore the weapon from the man's grip and smashed his forehead into his nose. The man screamed, stumbling back, hands flying to his ruined face. Malik didn't let him fall. Looking down on him, he gripped his throat, squeezed. Felt his pulse thrash against his fingers. Then, with one brutal motion, he slammed the bastard's head into the nearest rock. Until the struggling stopped. Until the rock was slick with red. Malik dropped the corpse. A spear thrust for his chest. Malik sidestepped, twisted the weapon from the fool's hands, and drove the jagged tip through his jaw, up into his skull. The body convulsed, fingers twitching. Malik ripped the spear free. "You have nothing to fight for!" Two rushed him at once. A curved sword swung for his neck. A dagger lunged for his ribs. He ducked the first. Let the second graze him—bait. Before the dagger could be pulled back, he caught the wrist, yanked forward. Their throat met his teeth. A choked scream—wet, gurgling, desperate. Blood flooded his mouth. He ripped away, tearing through flesh, leaving a shredded ruin where their neck once was. The second bandit faltered, horror in his eyes. Malik shoved the dying body aside and pounced. His teeth found an ear. He ripped. A shriek. His blade followed. A gut torn open. A lifeless slump to the ground. Then—another, a ranged attack. This one was rock. A spike buried deep in his ribs. Malik barely even felt it. Pain was a distant thing. His rage too hungry. Another came, and he met them halfway, bodies crashing into each other. They tumbled into the dirt. Malik straddled his chest and began to pound. A fist to the face. Then another. Then another. Bone splintered. Skin tore. Looking up, he saw a few more spikes coming his way. He pulled back and lifted the bastard up. Using him as a shield. The fucker struggled in Malik's grip, who kept punching him, even as he turned into a corpse, his back a cursed porcupine. Malik threw him away and punched a blast of fire at the rock-shooting bastard. Malik clenched his right hand. Nothing. Ah... His sword was gone. Malik picked up a wagon's broken wheel that somehow made it next to him. He punched it through a man's throat. He stomped another's skull in. He tore another's jaw clean off. He ripped, crushed, and beat until there was no one left. Until the only thing left standing... was him. Malik didn't even see the bastard before a sword hacked into his forearm. He felt the sickening crunch of bone, the tearing of tendons, the way his fingers suddenly weren't gripping anything anymore. Then, before he could hit back, another attacked him, shooting a blade of air that cut through his other arm. His arms... they were gone. Malik staggered, head dizzy from blood loss. It splattered his chest, his legs, and the earth beneath him. He should have fallen. If he couldn't beat them with his fists, he would beat them with stumps. The same bandit lunged. Malik slammed his stump into his throat. He gagged, staggered back. Malik lunged forward and smashed his knee into his gut. The next fool came at him, swinging wild. Malik ducked, spun, rammed his shoulder into their ribs. He drove his heel into their knee, snapping it backward. If he couldn't beat them with stumps, he would beat them with his legs. Malik bit into their cheek. A fourth tried to run. Malik caught them with his teeth, his jaws clamping down on the back of their neck. They screamed, thrashed—too late. If he couldn't beat them with his legs, he would tear their throats out with his teeth. And he did. Again. And again. Again and again, again, again, again, again, again, again, again, again, again, again, again, again, again, again, again, again— He fought till there were none left. This time for certain. Alone with his unshed tears—hidden behind the wall of wrath. And alone with his thoughts. A... beautiful end to this nightmare... this tragedy, no? "Such a bad brother I had~." The world didn't torture him enough. "Jasmine, hey, Jasmine~." "You don't wanna say anything?" At the words of the first… the illusion of his second burial just stared at him. His leaning against a rock. She stared at his eyes, one of them hollowed; A bandit from the caravan attack party had come to support and managed to pull his left eyeball out before he found his neck, half torn apart by Malik's teeth. That one died due to blood loss. And Malik lost all of his teeth. Well.. not all of them. Some were still there, just… jutting out of his empty eye socket instead of his mouth. Another found itself buried like a tombstone on the cheek below his right eye. His jaw hung from one side, the tendons the only thing keeping them together. Jasmine stared at his arms next, finding them… well, not them. Only their remains—spread across the entire battlefield. His left leg had been split from the middle, the tear traveling like an earthquake through his muscles. His stomach was the only thing left pristine in his body. His ribs? Dusted with sand, scorched under the sun. And yet amidst all of that— "He won't listen to us for quite a while." Sinbad simply stared at him. Amidst all of that, one thought, only one thought crawled in his mind. Some critters made clicking noises. A critter—something that looked like a combination between a slug and dragonflies—flew up. It landed in his eye socket. The pain that he'd forgotten— The nightmares that Layla and Ali Baba had melted— The heart that flickered silently amidst her constant advances— That—frozen, absolute, terror. The critter burrowed and tore through his bone. The tooth that had gone in the wrong direction broke off. Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz— That one chose his half-open jaw. It slid down Malik's broken and half-open throat, traveling to his stomach and pancreas. A small, red ant found its way into the small hole in his skull. His cognitive process had all but slowed. He could feel the wormfly slowly digesting his mucus glands behind his cut nose. He could feel the ant slowly digging through his brain. He could feel a small, almost imperceptible leech sucking the blood spilling from his ribs, spilling from his arteries. Why wasn't he dead yet? The bloodsucker grew in size, turning orange. More ants had been called. They leapt into his now open brain, and traveled through his nerves. He could feel his muscles deteriorating, his life being sucked out. His vision had something floating within it. Not the random shapes that people would sometimes see. The ant drank the tears that hadn't yet dried up. Slowly, his vision filled with red, the ant meta morphing into a long segmented worm. It laid eggs in his eyes. The last thing he saw? Sinbad, Jasmine, and now Layla. Three illusions, three nightmares, three— Three undeniable proofs of his incompetence, the ones which even deceiving time could not wash away. Failures of responsibility— Failures of Guardianship. Since when was he so arrogant? Anger surged at himself, surged from the heart that remained attached with but only a single string of flesh. Slowly, but gradually, his leg was torn apart by the new bugs that had come running at the scent of blood. No one fought over his body. No one fought for his permission on something that was his. No one fought over food. These critters all shared. Some ants left through his ears, some traveled through his spine. Around him, a swarm of bugs, all red in color came. They covered the canyon. His body alone wasn't enough. So they feasted on everything that they could find. The mercenaries that had deserted. Those who valiantly protected everything they could. The ones that attacked. The ones who had been attacked. Layla's and Baba's bodies. His mute brain finally worked. Yet, half of it had already been eaten. Only one thought remained. Malik knew he was missing something. How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I? There was only one thing left in his mind. So that's all he thought. He drowned beneath the numerous ants. His eyes, his ears, his nostrils, his mouth. The tiny ants went in like a river, and drowned him with the same ferociousness that any water body would have displayed—forces of nature against the feeble strength of humanity. As he was eaten alive. How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?How could I?— As he always had been.