Druvak turned to the trembling soldier. His voice was a low, steady command, cutting through the chamber's horror. "Go. Find Mia. Tell her to prepare the army for another wave. Now."
The soldier bowed shakily and sprinted for the door, his footsteps echoing in the macabre silence.
Alone, Druvak's gaze was drawn back to the monstrous 45-foot chira suspended in its tank. His eyes then fell on a small, stark contrast to the room's grandeur: a black, worn-out book resting on a nearby pedestal. He approached and opened it.
'This is not a book. It's a diary. Armaror's diary.'
He began to read, and the world around him in the squelching floor, the abominations in tubes faded away. He was engrossed, forgetting the imdiate threat entirely.
'I am Armaror, a hybrid of demon and lizard monster. I have a twin brother nad Aron. Our mother left us after giving birth. Why? I never knew. We were nursed by an old woman. We knew little about her, but we cared for her deeply. She, too, left us after eight years, but with her last breath, she entrusted us with a small drake baby. "He is like you," she said. "In the future, he will be your help." Our warm shelter was gone again. In despair and hunger, we sought help from a nearby village. They did not welco us. They called us monsters and threw stones. If my brother had not stopped that day, I would have shown them what a monster truly was. To survive, I began to hunt in the jungle with the small drake. I was born with a special ability: my power grew with my anger. But Aron was weak and sickly, with no special power at all. Our world was small, just , my brother, our Drake, and our small hut. It was enough. But ti and fate are cruel, they tolerate no happiness. One day, I returned ho, dragging a boar's corpse and humming a tune. My humming died in my throat. Our ho was a raging pyre. I rushed into the flas, desperately searching for my brother, but found nothing. I scoured the surrounding forest until I heard voices. I hid in the bushes and listened to two n gossiping. "Finally, we're rid of one of the monster kids," one said. The other laughed. "We used him as a sacrifice to appease the Tyrant Tiger. One arrow, two sparrows!" My world shattered. I ran to the tiger's den and saw the beast... eating my brother alive. I lunged, tearing its jaws apart with my bare hands. I went to Aron, tore my clothes to staunch his wounds, and applied every dicine I had. The Drake and I cried over him. "Aron, wait! I will save you!" I begged. He opened his eyes a fraction, tears tracking through the gri on his face. "Brother... I'm sorry... I have to leave you." "Don't say that!" I scolded him. "I will save you!" Aron gripped my hands, his voice a final, desperate whisper. "Rember this... being weak is the greatest sin." Then the light left his eyes, and his body grew cold. "Noooooo!!!" I roared my anguish at the sky. For a full day, the drake and I cried, holding his lifeless body. The next day, we buried him. Then we went to the village. They are celebrating my brother's death. Despair, rage, grief and all types of negative emotions cover my consciousness. Soon, their joyful turn into a most nightmare. I amputated their limbs and burned them alive in their ho. They begged and cried for rcy I did not possess. That day I lost all the humility, rcy, mortality and Armaror, the Wraith Duke, was truly born.'
Druvak rubbed his temples and sighed heavily, a weight of grim understanding settling on him. “Even monsters were born from tragedy. But tragedy was no excuse for this madness.”
He flipped to the diary's final pages, seeking answers about the chimaera abominations surrounding him.
His eyes scanned the frantic, recent entries.
'Failed again. The chimaera will not stabilise.' 'Failed.' 'Failed...' 'A breakthrough! My friend Dracula provided an ancient text on soul transference and chiric fusion. The path is clear.' 'Success! After a hundred attempts, I have done it. I have woven the most powerful tyrants of the underworld jungle into one form. A perfect, strong body.' 'Today, I perford the forbidden ritual. I have moved my soul into my magnificent new chimaera body. I leave only a fragnt in my old form, a puppet to maintain the facade. I will never be weak again. Today, a scout report that King's ar—'
The entry ended abruptly.
Druvak’s head snapped up. He hadn't finished the sentence. He had closed the book at the worst possible mont. His eyes widened in dawning horror as he finally understood. He wasn't standing in a laboratory.
He was standing in a nest. And he was alone with the occupant.
He threw the diary aside and in one fluid motion, unsheathed his sword. Divine energy erupted around him, burning with azure fire as he activated his divinity to its absolute limit. He leapt high into the air, twenty feet above the flooded floor.
'Raging Water Sword Style!'
A crescent wave of pure, destructive force erupted from his blade, shooting towards the giant incubation tube. It struck the chimaera obliquely, slicing clean through glass, fluid, and flesh alike.
The upper half of the monstrous chira began to slide down with a grotesque, wet sound.
*Splash
For a heartbeat, there was silence. Druvak landed, expecting the thing to be dead.
Then, it happened.
A low, guttural rumble vibrated through the entire chamber, deeper than any sound a natural creature could make. The spilt primordial fluids on the floor began to steam and bubble, flowing backwards toward the bisected chimaera.
The two severed halves shuddered. Tendons of dark energy, like solidified shadow, snaked out from the sections, lashing together and pulling the creature whole. Muscle and bone knitted back together at an impossible, horrifying rate. The three pairs of eyes of lion, wolf, and orc are snapped open simultaneously, burning with intelligent, familiar, and utterly malevolent hatred.
Druvak’s attack hadn't killed it.
It had awakened it, the chira, Armaror.
Let out a ground-shaking roar that was not of mindless rage. The real battle had just begun.
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