The moment Gravel roared NOW! the ridge exploded into motion. Every survivor charged at the grub in a panic.

  Snow’s arrow shot first. It was aimed straight at the grub’s open mouth with great accuracy and precision, but despite this, the arrow vanished into the spinning plates and was instantly shredded, splintering into dust before it even touched flesh.

  Snow cursed under her breath and fired again. And again. The boy watched her hands shake as she reloaded, in fact her jaw clenched so hard it looked like her teeth might crack. She wasn’t trying to win. She was trying to make the grub hesitate for even a second.

  Sheath had no hesitations though as he charged ahead with his ethereal looking sword drawn. His boots slammed into the rock as he sprinted down the ridge like a man possessed by an evil spirit. His sword was raised high above his head. His face was twisted with fury and pride. He refused to accept the idea that something could exist that they couldn’t cut down.

  “COME ON!” Sheath screamed. “COME ON THEN!”

  He leapt into the sky in a single motion.

  The sword flashed in the air, a clean arc of metal aimed directly into the grub’s mouth.

  The blade struck one of the creature’s front teeth as sparks exploded. The impact echoed like a bell ringing inside the boy’s skull. Sheath was thrown backward, slammed into the ridge with a brutal crack, and rolled across stone like a ragdoll. He barely stopped himself from tumbling off the edge.

  The sword was still in his hand. The sword had bounced straight of the teeth of the grub. The boy was a little confused though as he was sure that blade was powerful enough to even cut the ocean in two.Yet the blade bounced like it hit stone. Sheath had sliced it incorrectly and despite being skilled at the sword he didn’t swing it with perfect form.

  The boy’s eyes narrowed. So it’s not the sword. It’s the hand holding it. Sheath stared at it, breathing hard. His pride shattered in his eyes.

  “...What?” he whispered.

  The grub’s mouth opened wider. Several layers of plates inside its great maw spun faster. And the smell that poured out was unbearable just as before.

  But Gravel didn’t step back. Gravel raised his hands holding onto something tightly in his grip before he cocked back and let an arrow loose. Unlike Snow however, he did not fire it from a bow. Rather, he simply threw it with his full strength, praying his power would activate when he needed it. The arrow flew through the air at a speed no bow could’ve replicated as it pierced through the skin of the grub in a flash.

  The grub let out a noise that wasn’t a roar. It was a deep, grinding bellow. The boy took this as pain as the grub rigged around after its body was pierced in an instant. The grub gurgled and started thrashing around as the ridge shook violently.

  People screamed as the creature’s weight pressed into the stone. Wrighty stood his ground as he thought about something before a huge grin appeared across his face. His muscles tensed. He raised his staff in the air with his face filled with determination. The boy could tell Wrighty was going to do something he wasn’t even sure would work. In a flash, Wrighty’s dense muscles flexed and he slammed the staff down with his only hand.

  The air rippled. A shockwave burst outward, slamming into the grub’s mouth like an invisible hammer. The force made the plates stutter for half a second making the creature’s head jerk back.

  Wrighty’s eyes lit up. “Oh!” he yelled. “THAT WORKED!”

  Then he immediately yelped as the recoil hit his arms and nearly knocked him over.

  “Ow—okay—maybe not that much!”

  The boy almost laughed, but his ribs punished him for even thinking about it. Pain flared through his side. Hot and sharp. He coughed and tasted blood.

  Five stood near Shiela, expression cold and focused. He wasn’t panicking nor shouting. He was simply watching. Waiting for the exact moment to act. Shiela raised her hands again.

  Hexagonal plates flickered in front of her palms, forming and collapsing like broken glass. Her breathing was frantic. Tears ran down her cheeks.

  “I can do it,” she whispered. “I can— I can do it…”

  Five crouched beside her.

  “Then do it once,” he said calmly. “Not a hundred times. One time. When it matters.”

  Shiela nodded shakily. Her shields flickered again. This time they didn’t collapse immediately. The shape formed into a thin wall—unstable and trembling—but real. The boy’s eyes widened. Shiela’s face twisted with pain. Blood trickled from her nose as she forced the shield to hold.

  The grub lunged upward again, recovering from the attacks from Gravel and Wrighty. The ridge shook. The mouth opened wider revealing its rows of grinding plates. Each row was meant to dispose of hard rock and dense bones.

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  Shiela paid it no mind and focused everything she had into sending her shield flying at the grub.

  The barrier struck the inside of the grub’s mouth. The grub lurched back jerking violently.

  The plates inside its mouth slowed for half a second. The shield had stopped the grub’s spinning gear-like teeth even for just a moment.

  That moment mattered. Gravel shouted.

  “KEEP IT OPEN!”

  Snow fired into the mouth again, arrows vanishing uselessly but forcing the creature’s attention upward. Wrighty slammed another shockwave into its face, forcing its head to jerk. Sheath staggered to his feet, rage burning brighter than his fear. He screamed and charged again, sword raised even though he hadn’t been able to slice it before. Some survivors attacked it with long ranged weapons. While others joined Sheath’s charge holding melee weapons.

  The boy saw the truth at that moment. Their fight wasn’t to kill it. They were fighting to buy time. To buy a single opening.

  And the boy’s chest weight pulsed so hard it felt like his ribs were about to explode. He could feel the dead inside the grub. He could feel them like a scent in his lungs. The pressure of unfinished lives. It was calling to him, pulling at something inside him like a hook.

  The boy’s hands trembled. He stared into the mouth again. And he saw it. A gap. A brief opening between the grinding plates. A moment where the creature had finally paused. The mouth widened. The plates slowed to a comfortable stop. The boy’s instincts screamed at him to run. To abandon everyone and prioritize his own survival. But he couldn’t bring himself to. That’s the problem with teams, as soon as you join them it’s not just your life that matters.

  But his mind was focused in on what was important. This is it. This is the only chance he had.

  Wrighty turned his head and saw the boy step forward.

  “Doc?” Wrighty barked. “What are you doing?!”

  The boy didn’t answer. His chest weight surged. He stepped toward the edge of the ridge. Toward the mouth. Toward the smell of death.

  Shiela shouted, “DON’T!”

  Gravel’s eyes widened. “BOY WAIT NOT YET—!”

  But the boy was already moving. He ran. He ran like a dying animal chasing survival. He reached the ridge edge. The grub’s mouth opened wide enough to swallow a house. The smell hit him so hard his eyes watered. He abandoned all reason and made the most irrational decision he made since falling. He jumped into the mouth of the grub. For one horrible second, the boy was weightless. Then the world became flesh. Wet, pale walls slammed around him. The sound of grinding plates roared behind him. He tumbled forward and landed in slime, skidding across something hard beneath the muck. It was bones. He rolled over and saw them. Human bones. Crushed ribs. Broken skull fragments. Shattered limbs. Some still had cloth attached. The boy gagged, choking on the stench. His ribs screamed as he tried to stand.

  The inside of the grub wasn’t empty. It was filled to the brim with rot.

  The walls pulsed around him, squeezing like the creature was breathing him in. Thick slime coated his arms and legs. It clung to him like glue, dragging him down.

  The boy stumbled forward. The ground beneath his feet was soft, uneven, and slippery. The grub shook violently as the outside battle continued. Every impact sent tremors through its body. The boy was thrown sideways and slammed into the wall. Pain exploded through his ribs.

  He screamed. The sound was immediately dampened by the thick ooze. If he died here it would be impossible for anyone to know he did until it was to late.

  He pushed himself up, breathing hard. His chest weight was pulsing now. No longer dormant like it had been

  It pulsed inside him like a second heart. Then he saw it. A cloud of black smoke was before him. Yet, he saw no fire at all. It hovered above the fresh remains of a half-crushed corpse near the wall, swirling like mist trapped in water.

  The boy’s eyes widened. His hand moved on instinct reaching towards it.

  The moment his fingers touched it, the smoke surged into his palm like it had been waiting for him. It rushed into his chest. And the boy nearly collapsed. His ribs flared with pain. His lungs seized. But the weight inside him changed.

  It didn’t just feel like pressure anymore. It felt like power.

  The boy’s breathing slowed. His hands were trembling. He could feel it now. The death inside this creature. He could use it as a resource. As a fuel.

  As if the dead had left behind something tangible, something that could be taken. The boy stared at his own hands. Black residue clung to his skin like soot. He swallowed hard.

  So this is what I can do.

  A sudden screech tore through the grub’s insides. The boy spun his head, he had been too distracted by this new revelation. Something crawled out of the slime. A small shape. Then another and another. Miniature bone creatures—like the bone monster that killed Chop, but smaller. Thinner. Faster.

  Their bodies were jagged, made of scraps and ribs and skull fragments fused together. Their mouths were too wide, teeth clicking, empty sockets staring.

  They weren’t quite alive. Like some sort of leftovers.

  The strange creatures launched at him. The boy didn’t take a second to think. As he swung his fist, a black residue surged along his arm. His punch connected with the first creature’s skull and shattered it like glass. Bone fragments exploded into the slime.

  The boy froze. He stared at his fist. He hadn’t even pulled out his club and yet-

  Did I just—

  Another bone creature slammed into his ribs. Pain shot through him. He staggered back, coughing blood. He gritted his teeth.

  “No,” he rasped. “Not here.”

  The boy grabbed the creature’s arm and ripped it off, black residue spilling from his fingers like smoke. He slammed the monster into the wall until it stopped moving. More crawled forward. Three, no, four. Five, there were five.

  The boy’s breathing turned ragged. His ribs screamed. But his chest weight kept pulsing. He could feel the dead all around him. He could feel their pressure. And he could take it.

  The boy clenched his fist. Black residue swirled around his arm like a living shadow.

  “Come on,” he whispered. “Come and get your fill.”

  The bone creatures charged. And the boy met them head-on. Outside, the ridge shook again as the survivors continued to fight. Inside the grub, the boy stood in the dark, surrounded by slime and bones, realizing the horrible truth.

  He had to kill the monster from the inside. Or die buried in its stomach with the rest.