Surviving the Death Hunt

The shyest misstep could have been their own undoing. 𝙛𝒓𝒆𝙚𝒘𝒆𝓫𝙣𝓸𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝒄𝒐𝓶

The trio navigated the dense fog, which seemed to breathe with a life of its own. Purple took point, her threads spreading across the ground as she called out warnings, ensuring no one got separated.

Julien followed, relaying her instructions to Scar at the back, making sure he didn’t miss anything important.

The fog proved as impenetrable as anticipated, sun or no sun. White smoke consumed everything, so dense that they couldn’t even make out their own limbs against it.

A memory surfaced, a story Cartel, one of his predecessors, had heard as a child. Cartel’s life became a nightmare the moment Brenda, the second wielder, passed the Inheritance to him.

Brenda died within days of awakening it, and Cartel was unlucky enough to perish at the academy after only his third duel.

Cartel had been twelve when Brenda, his older sister, was killed and transferred the Inheritance to him.

Until then, the boy’s life had been normal, happy even. He’d smiled and laughed. But there was also that story, the one his grandfather told about the mist god...

Legend told of someone who’d wielded the Inheritance of mist. So powerful that nothing trapped in his fog lived. His strength and influence exceeded what any ranking system could quantify.

Humanity thought itself saved with him on their side. They were wrong.

One morning, everyone woke up with no recollection of the mist god. Worse, the god himself was gone. Cartel’s grandfather alone claimed immunity to the collective amnesia... or had simply gone mad.

Scar’s current predicament hardly warranted such distractions, and these weren’t even his memories to dwell on, yet the peril they faced conjured thoughts of the mist god.

"Scar, watch your step. There are a handful of hands in the area. There’s a safe structure ahead; we’ll use it to rest temporarily." Julien repeated what Purple had instructed.

Scar responded positively.

Sunset approached. Though they couldn’t see the sun itself, the crimson moon’s glow was already seeping through the fog. That was all they needed to know.

At the rear, Scar moved cautiously, gripping the thread while playing a high-stakes guessing game.

Each footfall had to land exactly where Julien had stepped. One wrong placement would trigger Purple’s threads and doom them all.

Meanwhile, Purple worked efficiently, her threads slicing through every twisted corpse-hand they encountered.

The effort drained her, though. She’d periodically call for breaks to recover her Blessing, restoring her grip on the threads and collecting the bug corpses she’d killed.

Before long, they stumbled into a collapsed building where they could shelter for the night. They couldn’t see it, but after feeling blindly along floors and walls, they each found a spot to lean against and rest.

Following the thread binding them together, Julien found their supplies and distributed bread and water to stave off their hunger.

"Fascinating... we’re at death’s doorstep, and somehow we’re still worried about bottled water," Scar said with a sarcastic smile.

Purple sneered.

"I can’t stand this company... but I’ll admit, it’s convenient. Easy to carry, and always cold."

Scar snorted after the water touched his throat. He’d drunk this water multiple times even before the academy, and yet it never tasted this good. It meant something because of the predicament they were in, but this really tasted like a last meal.

"You hate them, Purple? Isn’t the Voss family focused on commerce and the Heart family on weapons? Why take it out on the water?" Julien’s voice was skeptical, though of course neither could see the other’s expression.

"It’s not about rivalry. Lovis’s Inheritance thrives in commerce, and the Heart family’s Spirits of the Lords let them craft weapons from souls, that’s their domain. What irritates me is the simplicity of it. Bottle some water, and it’s suddenly considered superior to the same water sold in sacks."

Purple’s words made Scar shake his head in disbelief. He had no idea why Purple and Julien found it so hard to appreciate human invention, but he’d always been fascinated. Humans didn’t need any godly abilities to make miracles happen.

It was simply marvelous.

They talked through the night, moving between mundane topics to distract themselves. Surprisingly, morning came quickly. No one had slept. Their companionship might have helped pass the time, but Scar knew terror kept him awake.

What if one of those hands got past Purple’s defenses? He’d be dead before he knew it.

Once they’d stretched, the careful journey resumed.

They’d rather have sheltered in place, but with only four corpses collected and six still needed, hence, movement was necessary. Second day of the three. Ten corpses or death, whether from Area 17 or the academy, hardly mattered.

’This is tougher than I thought. If I could just pull off what I did against Luccy...’

When Scar had faced Luccy in their final duel before this punishment, her Inheritance had blinded him briefly. He’d compensated by manipulating ambient Blessing, detecting everything within thirty meters. That skill had been his salvation.

Recreating that feat would be incredibly difficult, it had barely worked the first time. He’d attempted it constantly since yesterday without success. More time, that’s what he needed. With that ability mastered, Area 17 would be manageable.

Then...

"Scar!"

His mind was wandering when his name rang out in the distance, clear and insistent. Fear spiked through him. Before he could think, Purple’s threads wound around his shoulders and chest, pulling him onward.

What happened next was a blur...

A terrifying scream erupted from Purple, and the thread binding them tightened drastically. Scar stumbled from the sudden movement but righted himself quickly, then joined Julien in pulling her back.

In reality, Scar’s distraction meant he hadn’t heard Julien’s alert about nearby acidic water. He’d been heading right for it when Purple’s threads picked up on it.

She’d saved Scar just in time, but the movement left her exposed. One of those twisted skeletal hands seized her instantly, hauling her toward the pit’s edge.

The hands mobbed her, tearing at her flesh as agonized screams ripped from her throat. Only the thread binding her waist, pulled taut by Scar and Julien, prevented her from tumbling into the pit where more hands would shred her completely.

Those things had incredible strength, each bug could supposedly lift a wagon. The situation left Scar and Julien with limited options. Pulling too forcefully could tear Purple apart.

Scar knew Purple’s suffering was his fault, even if he didn’t know what had happened. Hearing her agonized cries, she, who was always so composed, broke something in him. He couldn’t stop blaming himself.

"Don’t let go, Purple. I’ve almost got a better hold." Julien said, desperation clear in his voice, while weighing their options.

Losing Purple meant losing everything. She was his only real hope of avenging his parents. He couldn’t watch her die.

Leaving Scar to hold all the weight, Julien bit his finger and transformed the blood into chains, throwing them toward the pit. The fog made sight impossible, he navigated by Purple’s anguished cries. Once positioned, he tried something unprecedented: morphing the chain’s end into spikes that pierced and shattered one of the grasping hands.

Still, his effort came to waste. There were just too many.

This weighed on Scar even more heavily. He could use his flames, but that would risk killing Purple as well.

They’d reached a stalemate. Out of options, they could only listen helplessly to Purple’s agonized screams.

...when they thought it was all over, a taunting voice echoed.

"I knew Akumas were useless."