Book 3: Chapter 45: Pyre

Book 3: Chapter 45: Pyre

From the very moment his body made contact with the molten rock, all Rocky knew was pain.

Though the volcano contained the same essence as his explosive chi, it showed him no mercy, doing its very best to burn him away. But if even the world itself thought Rocky would allow himself to be so easily snuffed, it had another thing coming.

The entire time he’d been beneath the surface of the volcano, something within him seemed... wrong. It was a part of him, though, so he forced the thought away, knowing that he and his form were flawless—the very pinnacle of evolution.

As soon as he’d felt the magma’s searing caress, he’d curled into a ball, protecting his body with a constant barrier of chi. Being surrounded by the same power his core held was a small blessing, but he had to constantly replenish his reserves, recycling the very chi that sought his destruction.

Unlike his boundless source of essence, however, his body was beginning to tire. If he didn’t experience a breakthrough soon or find some source of sustenance, he would be in trouble.

That mere heat could threaten Rocky, from a volcano or not, made his blood boil hotter than even the molten-rock surrounding him.

This, as with everything else, was Fischer’s fault.

His mortal enemy had forced Rocky’s claw, and if not for that, Rocky would be back with his beloved mistress right now rather than fighting for his life. The fury built within him, too strong to be denied any longer. Rocky cocked his claws open, gathered power there, and unleashed twin blasts out into the world.

He experienced a brief moment of ecstatic release, which was almost-immediately overshadowed by agonizing regret. Using his chi as an attack had diverted power from his shielding, letting the volcano’s heat burn his hardened carapace.

His anger at Fischer soared back into his awareness, but he set it aside, needing every ounce of attention to restore the protective bubble around his mighty form. Now that the magma had found an opening, though, it didn’t relent so easily. It seemed to fight against his body, the explosive chi no longer seeing him as kin. Primordial fear coursed through Rocky as, for the first time since plunging into the volcano, he truly entertained the fact that he might not make it out.

His life being in danger scoured away any thoughts of Fischer; only images of his spiky mistress remained. Her beautiful face flashed through his mind, her mouth undulating as she blew bubbles of praise for a job well done. When he recalled her turning her back on him the last time he’d seen her, Rocky’s resolve started to firm. Though she had made a show of disapproving of his methods, she would be expecting him to come home.

He had to survive. He had to prove himself and return to her.

There was only a single path out of the situation he had mired himself in. He had to make a breakthrough.

With every fiber of his body agreeing with the decision, he delved further into himself, doing his best to ignore the pain searing his carapace. It was nigh impossible, the agony rolling over him too potent to ignore. But Rocky was no mere crab. He was the strongest follower of his magnificent mistress, and with her image rooted firmly in mind, he sent his awareness spiraling down toward his core. The sensations of his body grew numb, as if they were happening from someone else. Smiling internally at his prowess, Rocky sank into his core.

What he found there made his hopes climb. His core was near to bursting, every inch of the space absolutely filled with explosive chi. He pressed on the walls with his will, metaphorically puffing his chest out at how easy this was going to be. The outside world froze as he imagined what he wanted his core to do, and just as his fear of death was almost completely banished, his expanding walls hit something... solid? A spike of panic rose up from deep within his consciousness, making him double his efforts.

But no matter how hard he pushed, the solid object didn’t budge.

A cold hatred simmered low in Rocky’s body. And this time, the emotion was entirely his own, so passionate that it drew Rocky from his core for the slightest of moments. When he discovered the state of his wondrous carapace, he should have felt despair. It was burning away, the volcano’s molten rock having scorched sections of him in an attempt to seek and destroy the human’s chi. Instead of being consumed by despair, his simmering hatred came to a boil.

In an incessant stream, every pivotal experience he’d had since awakening played through his mind. Each moment Rocky chose violence, to the detriment of those around him. Each time he embarrassed and brought shame to his beloved Snips. Each time Rocky saw his actions as justified, lashing out at anyone who dared anger him. They had all led to this very moment, culminating in Rocky’s annihilation. Even now, the invader’s poisonous thoughts infected him, fueling the fire that was his hatred.

Though he now knew its origin, Rocky didn’t fight off its influence. He let it roll over him, the flames growing ever brighter. His core climbed to a blistering heat, yet his resolve remained cold. Knowing his demise was nigh, Rocky sent himself spiraling down into his core once more. This usurper had sealed his fate, but Rocky wasn’t yet dead.

He would use its own toxin to destroy it.

He let the black bubble of fury, hatred, and indignation wash over him. He drew the emotions in, demanding ever more. The bonfire within Rocky grew to an inferno, and just when he felt he was going to explode, he channeled it toward his core’s intruder. It crashed into the man’s echo, and it tried to parry, tried to fight off Rocky as it had so easily done before. This time, Rocky blew right through the defenses. Fear radiated throughout his body, but he knew it wasn’t his.

Urged on by his tormenter’s terror, Rocky imagined the inferno exploding from within him. It slammed into the bubble from inside. At first, it held its ground, its black tendrils having had months to root themselves within the interior of Rocky’s core. But then Rocky’s cold intent lanced into it and tore a hole through the dark influence. The gap was only millimeters thick, and the bubble sought to reform immediately, withdrawing power from its roots to bolster the barrier.

Rocky’s chi was faster.

As if his core was sapient, every drop of his essence slammed into that small gap, ripping it wide. In the blink of an eye, the human’s remnant soul was forced into a tiny ball, each and every root pulled free of Rocky’s core. Even minutes ago, Rocky would have tried to consume it for power. Now, he just wanted it gone. With a final push, he forced it out of his body and into the volcano.

The explosive chi held there descended immediately, the rancorous human’s soul screeching like hundreds of beings as it burned away into nothing.

At war with the searing agony of Rocky’s body, a wave of elation washed over him. Banishing the human’s spirit had taken all of his strength, and though the magma no longer sought his destruction, it was too late. The damage was too severe, and as Rocky felt himself sinking deeper into the volcano that was to be his funeral pyre, he accepted his fate.

His mind felt clear for the first time since his awakening. No longer did hatred and fury afflict him, coloring his decisions. He had been poisoned for so long that to be free of it made triumph radiate throughout him. Despite his life coming to an end, he finally had a taste of who he was.

Rocky wasn’t, as Fischer would have said, a prick.

This realization made his body feel light, as if the universe caressed him and eased his pains.

Rocky’s only regret was that his spiky mistress wouldn’t know what became of him, but she would be okay. She was surrounded by good people, after all. His carapace started to tingle, even his pain receptors beginning to fail as his awareness faded. He got the sense that the magma was swelling up around him, the world intent on witnessing his departure.

When the volcano’s chi rushed into Rocky, his vision went black.