Magic hissed around Noah like a den of snakes as the new Formation coiled around him, Sunder’s power pumping in it like blood through veins. The intensity of the magic was enough to send static electricity crackling across his skin and his hair whipping through the air in angry strands. Blood still leaked from the wound in the Devourer’s body to pool on the floor beneath it. The cut left behind by Sunder was so large that Noah probably could have dropped through it without ever even touching any part of the monster. And yet, even an injury like that couldn’t have been much more than a painful cut to something of this size. The latest_epɪ_sodes are on_the 𝓷𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓵·𝓯𝓲𝓻𝓮·𝓷𝓮𝓽 There simply didn’t seem to be an end to the Devourer. Even Sunder had its limits, and this thing was clearly at least at the level of a high Rank 6 or even a Rank 7. Killing it would be incredibly difficult. For an instant, the huge creature and Noah were silent. The song filling the room swallowed all else. It left behind no room for worthless conversation or traded threats. There was only a man and a monstrosity. The corners of Noah’s lips curled in distant amusement. Man and monstrosity they may have been, but with all the human faces stitched onto the Devourer’s body, there was a fair chance it actually had more human in it than he did. Saying just which of them was man and which was monstrosity was considerably harder than it felt like it should have been. There was only one thing for certain. Both of them were damned difficult to kill. Perhaps, rather than man and monstrosity, it would be more accurate to say cockroach and cockroach. But no cockroach, monster, or man was going to stand in his way. Not here. He’d gotten back to Obsidia. He had escaped the line. He’d survived the Night’s Shadow and Father. He’d broken free from the white void — so there was no damned way he was letting himself get stopped in this stupid little maze while Moxie and the others were waiting for his return. Noah prepared to release his Formation. But the Devourer was faster. It blurred, the enormous creature accelerating at a speed that should have been completely impossible for something its size. Noah, empowered by the Fragment of Self, had just enough reaction time to lurch back. But the Devourer wasn’t heading for him. Its body shot back through the dark tunnel leading into the Lost Citadel, vanishing like a noodle in a bowl of ramen, slurped up by a very hungry salaryman after a hard day’s work. Noah was pretty sure he heard it smash against the walls a few times in its haste to retreat. And then it was gone, and all that remained was a darkened doorway. He stared for a long second. Confusion flitted through his fragmented thoughts, but it did really seem as if the monster had retreated. All that remained of it was a trail of blood. Huh. Didn’t see that one coming. It took Noah a moment longer to realize he was floating. Crackles of red Chaos leaked from Unraveling Disruption and buzzed through the air. They warped it like the haze above a desert. Of course, the very instant he noticed the magic, it cut out. Perhaps the part of his mind that had been subconsciously focused on twisting reality got distracted. Maybe the rune just had bladder shyness. All Noah knew was that he was now falling through the air. He sent his magic deep within Unraveling Disruption, jerking a tiny strand of magic from within it and warping reality around himself. Noah jittered to the side in a pop of red magic, all the momentum he’d picked up vanishing as he landed on the ground in a stumble. Noah subconsciously pulled the threads of song holding the Formation apart. It disintegrated, magical energy dissipating into the air all around the room as the song faded away into silence. All the practice he’d had in the white void was more useful than he would have expected. Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. In figuring out how to destroy Formations in the most destructive way possible, Noah had found basically every single major mistake one could make. That, inversely, meant he knew how to take a Formation apart in a way that would just result in a fizzling puff rather than an explosion of magic. Noah released his violin, letting it return to the tattoo on his shoulder. Hollow Symphony’s power receded as well. He could still feel the rune within him. It strangely felt more interwoven with his soul than any of his other runes were — though that very well might have been because everything inside him was so damaged that he had pieces sitting where they shouldn’t have been. That’s a problem for later. Poking around in my soul won’t solve anything right now. I can worry about it after I find a way out of here. I’ll just have to avoid gathering Runes that I really don’t want as part of me. The last thing I want is to end up like one of these damn centipede things. The click of thin, chitinous legs from behind him poked at his thoughts. His domain prickled a moment later to warn him of the approach of one of the centipede monsters in question. It was the creature that had led him here. He turned to glance over his shoulder at the monster. It stared right past him, red eyes wide with some unknown emotion as it took in the open gates of the Citadel. The centipede noticed Noah staring at it a moment later. It flinched back as if he had struck it, the fear in its stance palpable. “Prayer,” the monster said. “Would you stop that?” Noah asked, his eyes narrowing. He jerked his chin toward the now-empty hallway waiting for him beyond the opened doors. “What was that thing? Your great grandfather?” “Prayer,” the centipede said again. It was hard to tell if it was answering his question or just trying to ask him to spare its life. There was a note of awe in its stolen voice — and Noah couldn’t help but notice that it was steadily getting better at speaking. It sounded less like a monster playing with someone else’s vocal box now. He wasn’t sure what he thought of that. Noah also wasn’t sure if he cared. The hivemind of centipedes was at the absolute bottom of his priority list. He looked back into the darkness, a frown forming on his lips. “How big is the Lost Citadel? Have you been inside it?” The centipede’s mandibles clicked. It was several seconds before it mustered up a response. “Too weak. Outer walls. Already brought.” “That was not an answer to my question,” Noah said. Fragmented ideas twisted together to click into place and form a coherent train of thought in his mind. He was getting closer to his goal, now. Escape couldn’t have been far. That seemed to focus him. It gave him something to move toward. “Have you been inside the Citadel?” “Long ago,” the centipede finally said, shifting back and eying the shadowed entryway like it was the maw of some starved beast waiting to swallow both of them whole. “Research. Prayer.” Maybe some part of its hivemind was in the Citadel back during the experiments that keep getting brought up. That’s good enough for me. If the inside of this place is just as confusing as the outside, I could be wandering around for weeks or months. I can’t have that. It’s already been too long. “Guide me,” Noah said. “If you want to survive, then you find me a way out of this. If not — I’m hunting down every last one of your hivemind. It is in your absolute best interest to find me a way out of here.” “Devourer,” the monster said uneasily. “The thing that just ran for its life because it stubbed its toe?” Noah asked. “Which of us remains standing after the fight? It might have consumed whoever was in the Citadel, but it said itself that it’s been years. Sounds like it hasn’t been in a real fight in a long time. Something like that poses me no threat.” “Devourer,” the monster repeated. Noah suppressed an annoyed sigh. “Here’s a better question,” he said, striding up to the monster. His eyes bore into those of the monster’s, unblinking. “Do you know what that monster I just fought was?” “The Devourer,” the centipede repeated. Its mandibles clicked and its eyes darted to look back into the darkness as if waiting for the great monster to emerge once more. “Death.” “No,” Noah said. He stepped in front of the centipede’s face. The Line shimmered within his golden eyes, burning like a flame that would never be extinguished. “To you, it is the Devourer. But to me, it is nothing but prey. Now — choose which one you side with. You can wait for the Devourer to come back… or you can guide me.” There was a short pause. The centipede’s red eyes averted. It looked into the darkness of the door waiting before them. Then it shifted past him, starting toward the darkness without so much as another word. It seemed that the monster had made its decision. Noah followed after it. He kept his runes at the ready in case anything was planning an ambush. And, joined by the constant click of his strange traveling companion’s legs tapping against ancient stone, Noah stepped into the shadows of the Lost Citadel.