Part 1 – The Heart of the Fall
The impact hit his entire body.
Fist to jaw.
Knee to stomach.
Veins to ribs.
Thomas landed two right hooks.
One to the face with his right, one to the neck with his left — but Thag'Zhul struck back with his forehead, cracking Thomas' eyebrow open with a sharp snap.
Blood splattered.
The Yandu twisted mid-air like it weighed nothing and flung two tentacles wide as steel beams.
Thomas ducked, slid on his knees, spun in place, and launched a rising kick to what might've been its armpit.
A cracking noise. Ayvu sprayed into the air.
But Thag'Zhul caught Thomas' leg mid-motion and slammed him into the ground with absurd force.
His body hit with a brutal thud.
But Thomas pushed himself back up, spun using his shoulders, and with fists wrapped in Ayvu, uppercut the creature's face from below.
Thag'Zhul staggered.
— COME ON! — Thomas shouted, spitting blood. — IS THAT ALL YOU GOT?!
The monster exploded — literally.
Its body splintered into nerve-like branches, like an octopus twisted into chaos.
It came from all directions.
Tentacles, limbs, long fingers, spiral attacks.
Thomas got hit twice.
Once in the back — another on the shoulder.
Something cracked.
But he ignored the pain.
He counterattacked on instinct.
He stepped on a bone limb, used the momentum, flipped over the creature, and drove both elbows down into Thag'Zhul's chest.
With his telekinesis, inherited from Calil, he pulled both daggers back into his hands.
The creature crashed into the ground.
Thomas landed on his feet.
And the blades were already spinning in his grip.
The first sank into its right shoulder.
The second — into its left arm.
But Thag'Zhul kicked him square in the stomach, hurling Thomas into a column made of skulls.
The impact knocked the air out of him.
But he rose again.
And this time, everything went silent.
Everything around them trembled with the pulse of Ayvu.
The heart on the altar seemed to call to them.
Thomas channeled every drop of Ayvu left.
Every bit of momentum.
All his frustration.
A leap with a mid-air spin. Two steps up the nearest pillar.
And he came down with everything he had.
Daggers in hand.
A double strike.
Straight into Thag'Zhul's chest.
The blade went through — and found the core.
One second of silence.
The creature's body froze.
Ayvu burst out like thick purple smoke.
Thomas thought it was over.
But it wasn't.
Thag'Zhul screamed.
And smiled.
The monster's arm drove through Thomas' stomach like a living stake.
A visual storm followed, as Ayvu and blood poured from his body.
His dagger dropped from his hand.
Thomas gasped — but no sound came out.
The creature yanked its arm out of the hole in his abdomen —
And, with Thomas still suspended in the air, struck him with another limb hard enough to launch him flying.
He couldn't even tell where he landed.
Pain blurred his perception.
He crashed onto his back, at the center of the altar.
The heart — bodyless — pulsed inches from his face.
Rotten. Clearly corrupted.
But somehow… breathing. Calling to him.
[SYSTEM COLLAPSE IMMINENT]
Health: 2%
Stability: below threshold
Breathing: irregular
Vitals: unstable
Across the cavern, Thag'Zhul staggered — but turned.
He looked at Thomas and leapt high — the final blow incoming.
Thomas stared at the heart.
It stank of rusted metal and rotting flesh.
If I absorb this… I might die.
This doesn't even feel like Ayvu…
But I… I've got nothing left.
He reached out with trembling fingers, blood crusted on his nails.
He hesitated — just for a second.
What if I become like them?
What if I lose control?
But Thag'Zhul was already ripping through the air in freefall.
There was no more time.
Thomas touched the heart.
And assimilated it.
Ayvu entered like a storm: thick, dirty, violent, indigestible.
His chest arched, eyes rolled back, throat locked.
His stomach burned like acid.
His heart threatened to stop.
And then… he saw.
—
An open field.
Children ran with wooden spears.
A man smiled — young, loose hair, arms marked by training and faith.
A true shaman.
He healed the sick, trained the youth, sang to the fire.
He was respected.
He was good.
Then the fire stopped.
Explosions. Screams.
A symbol drawn on the ground.
Betrayal.
Shamans hunting shamans.
His home.
His family.
First his wife. Then his children.
They cried. He screamed.
The earth responded —
But not with blessing.
With a curse.
Ayvu twisted.
Kindness rotted.
And he was reborn.
Thag'Zhul.
The shadow of a forgotten name.
Of a man… destroyed.
—
Thomas opened his eyes with a silent jolt.
The heart had vanished.
The blood on his chest had dried.
The pain was retreating.
His body — strong again. Alive.
Most wounds had closed.
His muscles vibrated with new, dense, painful energy.
And his right eye burned.
He blinked.
The iris narrowed like a feline's.
An amber light dripped from the pupil.
For the first time, Thomas saw differently.
The world was covered in glowing lines —
Cracks in the energy, weak points, distortions in flow.
When he looked at the creature, still mid-fall,
He saw imbalance in the Yandu's left leg,
Delay in the regeneration along its ribs,
A flawed center of gravity.
It was like seeing Thag'Zhul's anatomy in ruins.
The creature twisted midair, torso spinning, reality bending into a spiral.
Nerve-tentacles extended from its chest like starving mouths.
Its eyes no longer held logic — only savagery. Pure instinct.
Its final attempt.
It fell like it weighed a ton.
Thomas rolled sideways, barely dodging a blade-like vein that slammed down like a guillotine.
The second grazed his already wounded shoulder —
A new tear, deep and burning.
Thomas shouted through clenched teeth,
His jaw locking,
Spinning his body on reflex,
And pushing himself up with the momentum of his own blood.
Thag'Zhul crashed down on him.
They rolled across the floor.
Tentacles cracked against the altar like whips.
Thomas punched its face with his left hand — once, twice —
Each hit thundered through his fractured fingers.
The Yandu's face began to deform under the blows.
Elastic, resistant, like living rubber wrapped in sinew —
But Thomas was breaking through.
Another punch. And another. And another.
But he knew it wasn't enough.
His right eye spotted it —
A red hole pulsing at the center of the Yandu's internal mass,
A weak point.
The dagger.
It was still there —
Stuck in the ground from earlier, six meters away.
Thomas stretched his right arm, bones cracking in the shoulder.
The muscles screamed.
And with his mind — he pulled.
The metal vibrated.
The blade spun once, twice.
And flew.
Thomas caught it — trembling, but steady.
Thag'Zhul noticed.
He lunged, a vein-tentacle poised to crush his skull.
Thomas twisted his hips, narrowly dodging,
And with a roar caught in his throat —
Drove the blade straight into the rupture point his new vision had revealed.
It wasn't clean.
It wasn't elegant.
The blade didn't slide in —
Thomas screamed and pushed with everything he had: arm, shoulder, spine, leg, soul.
Ayvu burned inside him.
His vector — his telekinetic projection — flared up by instinct, subtle and focused.
The blade sank. Sank deeper.
And the core shattered.
A crack like a fruit crushed underfoot.
A muted explosion.
Thag'Zhul's body convulsed, arched, and froze.
The light died.
The weight dropped.
Thomas remained on his knees,
Hand buried in the creature's chest,
Breath still shredding his lungs.
He looked at the disfigured face.
No more movement.
Just the final shape of something that had once been… someone.
— You were a man…? — he whispered, eyes bloodshot, voice broken by exhaustion.
He looked down at that corpse.
Rotting. Pulsing. Still.
— Rest, damn it.
— Just rest, for God's sake...
He let go of the shattered hilt, collapsing to the side.
His watch vibrated hard.
[ALERT RESOLVED]
Health: 19%
Stability: 26%
Vitality recovery: 3% per minute
But there was no time to breathe.
The scream that came from the depths of the cave —
was human.
Hector.
Thomas turned.
Saw Hector's body flung against a pillar, crumpling over debris, face drenched in blood.
The other Yandu — Bigger, brutal, relentless.
Was still advancing.
--
Part 2 – The Hunter Awakens
Hector's jaw ached.
He kept moving in slow circles, fists raised, eyes locked on the monster before him. But staying focused was getting harder.
The Yandu was absurdly tough.
None of his strikes were causing real damage — no dodge seemed enough.
It was like fighting a golem made of muscle, mud and Ayvu. But not too much Ayvu. The creature didn't carry overwhelming spiritual pressure.
Bastard's just a ball of meat and brute force.
He had landed more than twenty direct hits.
Hooks, straight punches, knee strikes enhanced by Ayvu in his legs.
All precise.
All useless.
The creature didn't just endure it — it laughed.
Each of Hector's movements demanded calculation.
He moved like a pit fighter monk, like he'd learned from the monks of the cerrado and the warriors of the north.
Short step, diagonal slip, hip rotation, feint, fist wrapped in Ipokan.
But it wasn't working.
And worse than that…
He couldn't stop thinking about the kid.
Thomas.
Why didn't I pull him back?
Why did I let him step into this?
He felt the blood trickling down his right side, where the creature had grazed him — cracked a rib, maybe more.
His left leg trembled.
His vision blurred.
But the monster kept coming.
It was massive — over three meters tall.
Arms like tree trunks, split with fissures that bled Ayvu in thick vapor.
An unblinking eye embedded in its chest.
Its skin looked like dried bark — thick, cracked from within, but impossible to pierce.
And it advanced.
Hector took a breath and ducked under a wide swing.
He leapt sideways and delivered a punch with a hip twist — aiming between the trapezius and jawline.
A dry impact.
No reaction.
The creature slowly turned its head.
Then, with its other hand, shoved Hector with such force he flew back three meters.
He slammed into a column of fused human bones.
Pain radiated through his chest and neck.
He fell sideways, arms grasping for anything, blood splattering the stone beneath him.
He tried to stand.
Shaking. Wheezing.
The creature now walked toward him.
Heavy steps. No rush.
Like it already knew it had won.
Guilt tore through Hector's chest like a phantom spear.
Thomas might be dead.
And I brought him here.
I let it happen.
The creature stopped in front of him.
Raised its right arm — thick as a man's torso — and clenched its fist.
It was preparing to strike.
Hector braced himself.
One more dodge. One more try.
But then...
Something sliced the air.
A sharp whisper —
Shhk-clang!
The creature roared.
A slash had struck its flank.
A clean cut — spiral, lateral — at a point untouched until now.
Ayvu burst from the wound like furnace smoke.
The creature stepped back.
The massive fist that was ready to crush Hector… hesitated.
Then dropped.
It staggered, clutching its side.
The growl it let out was filled with surprise.
And anger.
And something close to fear.
The slash wasn't shallow.
It had gone deeper than it should.
Like the blade had found a weakness the creature didn't even know existed.
Its arm — the one meant to crush Hector — now hung limp, heavy.
Footsteps echoed across the chamber.
Firm. Steady.
Hector turned his head with effort, still on his knees.
And saw him.
Standing at the edge of the altar platform —
Chest marked with dried blood, eyes glowing like buried embers —
Thomas.
He wasn't gasping.
Wasn't shaking.
Wasn't limping.
He was whole.
The Ayvu around him spiraled wildly — dense, like vapor from molten steel.
His right eye was different.
The pupil had narrowed like that of a nocturnal predator.
An amber glow pulsed from it — constant, unwavering.
Like hell itself had condensed into a single point inside his skull.
The aura was wild… yet strangely calm.
The floor creaked under his bare feet.
Hector, still leaning against the stone, coughed blood and tried to rise.
But he couldn't look away from him.
Thomas.
He wasn't just stronger.
He was heavier now.
More present.
Like someone who had lived through something that added decades to the soul.
Thomas stopped a few meters from the creature.
Didn't even glance at Hector.
He cracked his neck.
Rolled his shoulders.
Narrowed his eyes.
And then — spoke.
— Let's finish this.
— I need some time… to think