Re:Cursed

Chapter 131 - 130: S̥e͔kh̃h̃a̱ͬtͣh'Rͦ̏҉̵͕ả

"Interlopers." The insectoid's voice rang through the hall without echo. An undertone of clicking mandibles clung to Nyxil's ears. She felt a permeating sense of foreignness. The being's words were graspable, but they were not the language she knew. It was a tongue that should not exist. "You dare perturb our slumber?"

The being straightened in its throne. Lifting its head, the insectoid breathed. A gust flowed in from behind Nyxil, sending a few of her unprepared fellow participants stumbling across stone. The air was cold. The chill of death clawed at her neck. If her long spines hadn't already been standing on end, they would now.

"Foul," he spat. The disgust in his voice was palpable; enough that Nyxil felt ill. A few of those around her bent over, emptying their guts. The ancient being paid them no mind. "Ravening decay's sodomy of divine stone was not enough? Our patience is to be tested by thieves? Life has long since ceased; your very existence is an affront to the Portentous Absolution."

The intense suns within the insectoid's fractal eyes narrowed. The width of solar light parting the darkness shrunk alongside it, allowing the thick black to creep in while his burning gaze remained.

Nyxil was not the only one to bathe in terror.

She took a step away, not daring to take her eyes off the being. Others weren't so withheld. Five immediately bolted. They turned tail and ran for the entrances they came from. How they intended to escape that way without wings, Nyxil didn't know, but whatever their plan, it didn't matter.

They had two seconds to disappear through the clinging darkness before the ancient being rose its sceptre. Its hand lifted and the golden staff rung against the stone dais. There was no other motion. This being didn't need anything more.

Nyxil was glad she didn't blink. A storm of fire exploded from the sceptre, burnt across the black stone, and incinerated each who tried to run. She turned, retinas stinging. Not a hair remained. The solar flare killed two Scriptures, both Children and one of the — former — Fleshsmiths before they had the time to scream.

Darkness flooded in. A tide filling the void left by the flash inferno. It crept in around Nyxil. Only those insectoid eyes and the sceptre remained bright through the dark. Sick, acrid yellow.

Nyxil's heart raced. Fuck the stress and fear it amplified; if she wanted to have any chance against such burning flames, she needed to be able to react.

"What are you?" K'Psao squeaked, uncomprehending.

The being paused, sceptre half through the motion of tapping stone once more.

"You do not know?" he asked, as if the very concept was unthinkable. His gaze flickered over each of their fearful, uncomprehending faces. "You do not," he concluded, discontent.

Slowly, the being's free hand rose. The old chitin cracked with the movement. Flakes tumbled into his throne. As he glared at his brittle arm, the burning tip of his sceptre — she could no longer consider it hers — roiled. The moment soon passed and he flicked his three blunt claws.

Nyxil couldn't see it, but the deafening grind of stone around them could only be the doors they entered through… closing. They were now sealed in.

With a pace that ran contrary to the speed at which he just stripped five lives from existence, the ancient insectoid rose from his throne. Slowly, he gripped the arms of his char black golden seat, and pushed himself to full height. The throne groaned in protest, and it was quickly apparent why.

The being was huge.

Not bulky like the warriors Nyxil had faced, but a good head taller. His chitinous segments were slender, and his overall appearance was lanky, but as he stood upright, he loomed over them all.

"Interlopers, you have the honour to stand, and die, before the Eternal Pharaoh S̥e͔kh̃h̃a̱ͬtͣh'Rͦ̏҉̵͕ả, mortal god of the Chosen Colony. Ten millennia we have waited upon lifeless soil, beneath scorched skies, for the heavens to plunge and bestow true eternity. Ten millennia have elapsed since life ceased. Since I ceased life."

Intense cramps burnt Nyxil's chest and her eyes took in a thousand inconsequential details at once. Sekhhath'Ra's thorax cracked like dried clay. As the Pharaoh straightened its posture, Nyxil counted eight hundred and thirty five separate flakes of petrified chitin that cracked and fell.

Sekhhath'Ra stepped down from his dais, yet he still loomed over the lot of them. He stood across the hall, and yet he was so imperious that he might as well be breathing down their necks.

"So I must ask." The Pharaoh tapped his sceptre on the stone, and Nyxil wasn't the only one to flinch. "From where do come?"

Nyxil's breath hitched. The burning orbs gazed upon her soul. The familiarity of the sensation too close to the horrible memories of a lifetime ago. She nearly spoke out of compulsion, but bit her tongue. She tasted blood, but ignored it.

The acolytes around her were not so strong. They cracked. Immediately. Even the cult champions stumbled over one another to spill first. The spatial tear they'd arrived through was hardly a secret, but Nyxil still had sense of mind to realise that telling a being that hated life where their exit was… wouldn't be a good idea.

Not to mention the thousands of cultless participants that likely still lingered near the entrances.

Despite the fear and roiling pressure in her chest, she shoved her hand over the two closest acolytes to herself and hissed at the others, hoping to distract them. For some reason, she failed to form words. Unfortunately, it was for nought.

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The two that didn't speak — the unevolved Fleshsmiths — instead collapsed. Nyxil didn't know if they died, or simply fainted, but she hardly had the time to concern herself.

"There is land beyond the scorched earth?" The Pharaoh's antennae twitched. "Then our patience was purposeless. Aeons of conquer, bathing our tomb in the blood of all living… it was all unfinished."

Silence hung like icicles over each of their heads. Now that there was no demand, nobody spoke. Only the subtle crackling of the being's chitinous fingers dulled the quiet. Flakes fell as he clenched his fist around his sceptre.

Nyxil noticed something rolling around in her mouth. Her tongue, bitten off. She never even felt the pain. Grabbing a handful of mouldy hair, she shoved it in her mouth. The effort of trying to realign her her tongue gave her just enough of a distraction that she finally took stock of the situation through a lens not entirely tinted with horror.

Nyxil needed to do something.

"Uͯ̈́nis͎̬o͙̚b̖e͓ͧk͍ͅ, go find this Coral. The slaughter will begin again." It was as if the Pharaoh had completely forgotten about them. Its torchlight eyes parted only the darkness at its feet.

Who the fuck is Unisobek? Nyxil thought frantically. One being this powerful is enough of a problem; don't tell me there's a second.

"Uͯ̈́nis͎̬o͙̚b̖e͓ͧk͍ͅ?" Sekhhath'Ra's gaze rose to the massive crocodile embalmed. "Oh," he said simply. "Rot has consumed you."

Sekhhath'Ra languidly stepped towards the dead creature. He walked through their group, caring not for their desperate scampering to get out of his way. His mind was for the embalmed alone.

Nyxil's eyes stayed locked on the only light as he ran his arm along the wax coated scales of the beast's tail. This was her opportunity. No matter how powerful the Pharaoh was, he had turned away. If they wanted to survive, they had to act now.

"Su'Baař," she whispered as she slid up besides him. His machine didn't know whether too keep its cannon targeted at her or the ancient being. "Is your cannon good to fire?"

He blinked. With a distracted look to Buddy, he wordlessly nodded.

"Good. I want you to fire at the being when I give you the signal."

"What? Are you insane?" Val'Manis hissed. "He's stronger than Ep̽'N̺an̺o͐r̔sc͈hi̫͑. We'll die before the machine's shell can reach him."

"He's made no effort to hide his intent. If we don't do anything, we'll die anyway."

"Then I'd much rather die quickly than being hung by my own intestines."

"You would lay down your life without a fight?" Nyxil felt disgusted. "Do you really mean that?"

The lidless boy bit a knuckle.

"I'm with Nỷx̱il," K'Psao said, joining them in their little circle of whispers. "We've got to fight. Look at him; his body's falling apart. He's stretched his life long past its expiry." He gestured to Val'Manis' needles. "How good's that poison of yours?"

"It won't be enough," the Everseeing Eye acolyte said. "What exactly is your plan?" He turned to Nyxil.

"I'm going to knock away that sceptre. He's only used his power through it, so I hope it'll give us some opening if I can take it from him." This time, she wouldn't let go so easily. "I just need a distraction so I can get close."

"Wouldn't it be better to try and escape while we can?" Val'Manis asked, still unconvinced.

"Look around you." Nyxil hissed. Can you see an exit? None of us need to have your cult's eyes to know this dark is unnatural. If you could see a path out, can you say with any honesty that you wouldn't already have left us?"

His silence was all the answer she needed.

Nyxil sighed. "Just get the others ready to act." She tugged both halves of her skulk shroud from beneath her robe. When she was sure the Pharaoh wasn't looking their way, she threw one half over her head and shoulders while the other went around her waist. The cloth clung to her, latching where it could, and left only her eyes free. She glanced back to Su'Baar, unable to see the boy now that her third eye was covered. "Fire when you hear the clatter of stone."

"Don't die," he whispered. "We can't let Ly͚sy͚rã win the Trials after she pulled this."

She huffed quietly. As if I would let that happen regardless.

Nyxil slunk through the dark. Worn in two pieces, the visual distortion wasn't as effective as when K'tan had used the shroud, but she hoped the darkness would help her. Slowly, she worked her way around the back of the huge embalmed, picking up a loose bit of rock. The Pharaoh's light faded behind a wall of scales, but his voice remained.

"Too long has passed." His voice was quiet, but carried no less authority or intensity. "Uͯ̈́nis͎̬o͙̚b̖e͓ͧk͍ͅ, you have failed. The Eidolons have yet to descend, as foretold, and there is more life to cull." Nyxil stopped in her tracks as Sekhhath'Ra fell silent. "Rot. A hundred thousand victories, and you succumb to rot? I am disappointed."

A wet crash struck Nyxil's ears as the entire crocodile's corpse jolted. Only a second later the scent hit her. Pungent decay, far worse than any of the other embalmed. The tendrils in her stomach felt like they were tying themselves in knots.

"Unsalvageable." The sound of shattering ceramic rang through the chamber.

"When the One Without Equal finally consumes us all and bestows true eternity upon me, you will no longer join my side. I must continue the Grand Cleanse."

Nyxil wasn't about to get a better warning than that. She threw the rock at the ceiling, and leapt atop the corpse of Unisobek. As she crested the bony spine of the beast, she gained a front row view as the micro-tank shell slammed into the back of the Pharaoh.

Sekhhath'Ra didn't even try to block.

The metal shell exploded in a shower of metal shards and bits of fossilised chitin, but the Pharaoh barely moved. At most, his thorax lurched forward. The explosive force of the cannon was not enough to shift Sekhhath'Ra's feet even a touch. She took in the wound. All the cracked, outer chitin had been blown off, but it hadn't been able to reach through the rest of the exoskeleton. Cracks webbed across the back of its thorax, but they were just as likely to have already been there beforehand.

Nyxil bound along the back of the crocodile as Val'Manis' blade needles rushed in to pound against the impact zone. She also heard chants from the remaining Scriptures. As surprised as she was that they hadn't taken the opportunity to flee, Nyxil closed off her mind to everything but her target.

Sekhhath'Ra calmly turned to the acolytes, Sceptre raised. "It seems the new land has not yet learnt fear. That will change."

Nyxil leapt. She waited for the last moment to pull her rapier from beneath the skulk shroud. Against an opponent like this, she didn't dare lower her heart rate. Because of that, the few moments between jumping from the embalmed and reaching the Pharaoh felt like an eternity. She had enough time to settle on a plan, doubt it, remake it entirely, and finally land back on the original.

As much as her goal was to get rid of that sceptre, this was also an opportunity she wasn't going to get twice. Nyxil needed to go for the kill.

She spun through the air, going through the battle of keeping her breath calm so that as her foot kicked the golden staff and blade thrust towards the Pharaoh's head, it was all in sync.

In an instant, three things happened: Sekhhath'Ra caught her blade. Her leg stopped dead against the sceptre. And a solar flare screamed towards the acolytes.

As the proximity scorched her skin, Nyxil watched the burning wave of yellow light crashed through each Trial participant and eviscerated their bodies. Blood boiled beneath Su'Baar's skin the moment before the tendril of a sun scraped away the flesh of his body. All that remained was his lower torso and legs, which fell and spilled blood.

Everyone received a similar fate.

In a way that could only be intentional, the flare ate away only enough of their bodies to leave a body to spill blood on the dark stone. None had survived. Not even the few that had tried to run.

Sekhhath'Ra's burning gaze fell on Nyxil.