Part 1 – The Breathing Abyss
The forest had gone silent.
Not the usual stillness of the Fluminense trails.
It was a hostile silence — as if the forest itself had forgotten how to make sound.
No branches cracked. No leaves rustled. Not even the wind dared to whisper.
The entrance to the cave was there.
Carved into the hillside, covered in tangled roots and dark vines.
But it didn't look like a natural opening.
It was too symmetrical. Too curved. Too alive.
The stone around the opening was black, porous, and pulsed with warm humidity.
Like skin under fever.
Thomas stopped.
His whole body reacted.
— This was built. — he muttered.
— Yes... — Hector replied, right behind him. — Looks like a temple.
— Looks like a fucking dungeon. — Thomas snapped, disgust in his voice.
The entrance didn't look like a mouth.
It looked like an inverted womb.
And around the opening... were the remains.
Open jaws like columns.
Human ribs curved into an archway.
Skulls fused into the rock, placed like sentinels with their hollow eyes turned toward the forest.
Thomas took a deep breath. He didn't tremble.
— How many signals?
— Three fixed. Two mobile. And one… at the center. I can't tell if it's a living thing… or something pulsing through all of them. — Hector narrowed his eyes. — But this shit breathes. The Ayvu here... vibrates like a heart before it stops.
Thomas tapped his watch.
A signal vibrated against his wrist.
His own data was fluctuating. Mild fatigue. Rising heart rate.
But his gaze stayed firm.
Nothing here would make him retreat. Not anymore.
— Let's end this.
They crossed the threshold.
The transition was brutal.
Sunlight vanished — swallowed whole.
The temperature dropped.
The air turned thick, damp, saturated with a stench that mixed rust with something cruel.
Fermented blood. Condensed Ayvu.
The tunnel wasn't long.
But it twisted like an intestine.
And at the end — a chamber.
Thomas stopped at the entrance. And for a moment… his stomach rose.
The place was a theater.
Like an altar at the end of a dungeon.
Pillars of dried flesh and twisted roots formed columns around an oval space.
The floor was made of bones — fit together in circular patterns, like mosaics.
At the center — an altar.
Or something that resembled one.
A black stone covered in symbols carved with human teeth.
And on top of it... a still-beating heart wrapped in Ayvu, swirling like an energetic specter.
— What is that... — Thomas whispered.
— Living Ayvu. Bound. — Hector answered, his throat tight. — It feeds them. It's the center.
Hanging from the ceiling like macabre bells were the bodies.
Children. Women. Men.
All with skin marked by symbols.
Some... still trembling.
It was a cult.
A monster's nursery.
A sanctuary built from souls.
Thomas swallowed hard.
Rage rose — hot, but controlled.
— They're still here.
— Something's wrong here, Thomas, maybe we should—
Then the ground shook — cutting Hector off mid-sentence.
As if something massive had stepped nearby.
From the edges of the chamber, two figures began to emerge.
First, a Yandu only slightly larger than a man.
It didn't walk. It flowed.
Its body was translucent, made of veins and Ayvu channels pulsing like living rivers.
Its face was covered by a cracked glass mask, with a single amber eye spinning like a feverish globe.
It dripped from the ceiling like a living leak — and landed softly.
Thomas stepped forward.
But before he could speak, the back wall exploded.
From it came the second creature.
Over three meters tall.
Stitched together with roots, bones, and human eyes.
On its chest, a spiral of pupils blinked in chaos, as if trapped in eternal suffering.
Its mouth was asymmetrical.
And its presence made the air heavy.
Thomas nearly stumbled.
Not from fear —
But from disconnection.
For a second, he forgot… Gabriele's face.
He forgot… Olivia's voice.
— It severs bonds. — Hector whispered. — It's a dangerous ability. It disconnects us. We should try to fall back, but if there's no way out, I'll handle it.
Thomas nodded.
That's when the first Yandu looked at him and spoke.
— "You… son of the crooked line."
— "You… bleed… pretty. I… Thag'Zhul."
The voice was like soaked air, off-pitch — but clear enough.
— He's… talking? — Thomas said aloud, stunned.
The daggers appeared in his hands with a dry metallic click.
He should've retreated —
But deep down he knew he couldn't outrun it.
The only choice was to fight.
Thag'Zhul didn't wait.
And the dance began.
--
Part 2 – The Dance of Flows
Thag'Zhul didn't run.
His body moved like gravity had yanked it down —
Like a heavy downpour slamming the ground.
His arms stretched in impossible angles —
Veins turning into slashing whips, pulsing with distorted Ayvu energy.
Thomas leapt sideways, Ayvu bursting in his legs with a sharp impulse.
The Yandu's arm struck where he'd just been — cracking the floor like brittle glass.
Thomas landed and spun.
He dashed along the side of the room, stepping on bones embedded in the ground like teeth.
Each step made sharp cracking sounds.
His eyes stayed locked — calculating distance, angle, the exact moment.
— He looks like an octopus… but a thousand times deadlier. Dammit.
The Yandu responded by spinning its entire body —
Its limbs separated, lashing out like flexible blades in every direction.
A wide, blind, violent attack.
Thomas used the wall.
Ran along it horizontally — as if gravity no longer applied.
He jumped mid-run.
Spun in the air.
And hurled a dagger in a spiral — propelled by the spin and Ayvu bursting from his grip.
The blade flew straight toward the creature's chest.
It swerved.
At the last moment, the air around the Yandu twisted —
Like fabric being pulled tight.
The dagger veered off in an impossible curve and buried itself in one of the pillars.
— "Weak lines..."
Thag'Zhul's voice echoed — dripping with sarcasm.
Thomas didn't answer.
He was already running — low stance, feet sliding.
Jumped again, snatched the dagger from the pillar —
And used it as a springboard to vault, spinning like a living blade.
Both daggers in hand —
One aimed for the flank, the other for the neck.
But the Yandu broke in midair.
Literally.
Its torso split into three pieces — connected by streams of energy.
The daggers passed between them, hitting nothing.
Thomas landed and rolled, dodging a hair's width from limbs cracking down on the floor.
He jumped again.
Climbed a pillar.
Ran diagonally.
Flipped backward in midair, body spinning.
He managed to land behind the creature.
Ayvu pulsed through his arms —
He launched a sweeping strike with his entire body's force.
The dagger tore through part of the Yandu's fluid side.
Ayvu leaked out like incandescent pus.
— "You wound…"
— "…but don't understand."
Thag'Zhul twisted like a snake.
One of his veins wrapped around Thomas' ankle.
Snap. Pain.
Thomas fell sideways — his shoulder slamming the ground hard.
But he rolled away before the final blow could come.
Cracked floor.
A vein impaled.
Blood at the corner of his mouth.
He was alive — still without fatal injuries.
But now, the Yandu smiled with its whole body.
Thomas panted, sweat dripping down his face.
— I don't understand a damn thing you say. — he growled.
He ran.
Jumped again.
Climbed the central altar.
Slid along the side.
Used the dagger stuck in the pillar for momentum.
Ayvu surged in his legs — he shot forward like a missile.
The dagger slammed into the Yandu's shoulder and sank deep.
Thomas spun around the shoulder, using the blade as a pivot, and landed hard on the creature's back with a kick.
He pushed off the creature —
Dragged it down against the ground —
Yanked the blade out before impact and rolled away as the Yandu's body crashed.
Veins burst.
Ayvu exploded.
But Thag'Zhul twisted himself like a wounded serpent —
Used the recoil of his crash to lunge at Thomas again.
With one heavy strike, he launched Thomas into the nearest wall.
The daggers flew off.
The impact hurled them toward the ceiling.
They ricocheted off the stone and vanished between the skulls embedded in the walls.
Impact. Crack. Blood on his teeth.
Thomas dropped to his knees — his chest heaving.
But he was still standing.
— You… what's your name?
The Yandu's voice held respect. Almost admiration.
But Thomas didn't want respect.
He wanted its head on the floor.
And then…
...the ground shook.
From the other side of the cave, Hector was thrown against a column —
Blood pouring from his mouth.
The Bond-Eater advanced like a demon made of mud and bones.
Thomas clenched his fists.
Shit. If this keeps up... We're going to die.
--
Part 3 – Clash of Blows
Thomas turned, eyes already pressed by urgency — but it was too late.
Thag'Zhul was already coming.
Fast. Crawling and twisting across the ground like a living web.
Veins stretched out like extra limbs. Its body twisted at unnatural angles.
Each step left a trail of dark vapor in the air — unstable Ayvu, leaking from its pores.
Thomas dove to the side, heart pounding at its limit.
He rolled through dust and bone fragments.
Another strike came.
Then another.
An arm shaped like a spear sliced through the air, aiming for his neck.
Thomas threw himself chest-first against the ground, sliding under it.
Dust in his eyes. Pain in his shoulder. But still alive.
Another limb came crashing down like a guillotine.
He rolled, climbed up a lodged skull, and leapt forward, both legs kicking into the creature's chest.
Impact.
Thag'Zhul stumbled back one step.
Thomas twisted mid-roll and stood in an improvised fighting stance, his fists buzzing.
— Now it's hand-to-hand, huh? Bring it, motherfucker.
Ayvu gathered in his fists like a boxer's wrap.
His muscles twitched. Joints stiffened.
Veins lit up in rhythmic pulses.
He ran.
Not like a man — like a projectile.
The first punch landed on what passed for the Yandu's chin.
The second hit its chest.
The third, powered by a hip twist, bent the creature's torso back.
Thag'Zhul screamed. And struck back.
Two arms came at once — one from below, the other from above.
Thomas raised both forearms to block.
Ayvu against Ayvu.
The clash exploded with sparks of raw energy.
[HEAVY IMPACT]
Muscular defense compromised.
Health: 62%
Absorption system: Offline
Thomas gritted his teeth. Then countered.
He twisted into a tight feint and launched a flurry of punches into the Yandu's abdomen, syncing them with his breathing.
Right.
Left.
Right with a forward step.
Left with a shoulder spin.
The blows dug into its liquid flesh.
The monster wasn't smiling anymore.
Then… it hit back.
A fist slammed into Thomas' jaw.
Another into his gut.
Another into his already bruised shoulder.
Thomas flew two meters.
He rolled.
Cracked a vertebra against a shard of the altar.
[ALERT]
Health: 35%
Stability: 41%
Muscle pain: 91%
He coughed blood. His breath broken. But he stood.
Fucking hell.
— Again.
— AGAIN! — Thomas screamed, though it sounded more like he was screaming at himself.
And ran once more.
But his body didn't move with the same precision.
Each step demanded willpower, full awareness.
Thag'Zhul advanced without hesitation.
Its body deforming more with every second.
More arms. More tendrils.
Ayvu dripping to the ground like molten tar.
A blow sliced the air. Thomas dodged with a hip twist.
Another came from below — he leapt back.
The Yandu was trying to corner him.
Thomas used the wall.
Ran up it backwards, kicked off with his heel —
For a moment, he sprinted horizontally like a goat unfazed by gravity.
He jumped.
Tried a spinning axe kick from above — and hit dead-on.
Thag'Zhul reeled from the pain.
But it used the impact to twist its torso and grabbed Thomas' ankle mid-air with both hands.
CRACK.
A wet sound. Not a bone — but close.
The crash into the ground was brutal.
Thomas landed on his back. Twisted his neck as he hit.
Stayed still for a moment.
[COLLISION DETECTED]
Health: 22%
Stability: 19%
Signs of concussion: Mild
Muscle defense system: Failing
His vision went dark — just for an instant.
But in that instant… he felt something sink.
Fear.
He forced his body to move.
Turned to the side. Rose with one knee on the floor. Spat blood.
Thag'Zhul watched from a distance. Motionless. Breathing.
The Ayvu around the Yandu pulsed in a new rhythm.
It was charging something.
Or preparing.
Thomas stood. Shaky, but upright.
His breath came under control. For two seconds. Maybe three.
— You know what? — Thomas looked at the Yandu, lifted his chin, and gave a crooked grin. — I'm tired of getting my ass kicked.
A wild aura of Ayvu burst from his body.
His eyes glowed like Ayvu exhaust pipes.
Fear turned into focused rage.
The Yandu smiled.
Not mockingly — genuinely.
It too was tired. And wounded.
It didn't answer with words.
It charged. This time, with everything.
No tricks.
Just force. And brutality.