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327. Smashing Faces
🕑 Added 2025-03-09 14:00:03 +0000 UTCWisp jumped off the mountain’s shoulder, clutching Ike in her foreclaws. Ike barely bit back his scream, only managing to hold it in at the last second when he imagined Wisp’s smug expression. A spider thread shot ahead of them. They swung on it and landed on the mountain’s opposite shoulder, closer to its mask.
Ike escaped Wisp’s grasp and stepped closer. He drew out the Hungry Sword. The mountain turned toward him. White porcelain scraped by, a spot of pale white on her gray granite skin. A glowing gold orb spun in her eye socket, the only marking the bright gold spotlight on its center front. As her eye spun, the light beaming from it played over the walls, flashing wildly in every direction. The spotlight of her gaze landed on Ike. “You!”
“Me!” Lightning flashed over Ike’s body. His hands gleamed with dark steel. Lightning flashed out from his hands and crackled over every chittering blade on the Hungry Sword. He wound back, putting his all into it, then lashed out.
The mountain reared her head back. She opened her mouth, snapping toward Ike. Tombstone teeth slammed down toward him. Ike’s sword flew toward her open mouth.
Shit! There was no pulling back. Ike pushed himself to move even faster. The lightning already flickering over his arm grew thicker and more constant. His hand blurred, but her teeth moved faster. There was no saving it. His hand was lost.
If I can’t escape, then— Ike flicked his wrist, tossing the Hungry Sword free of her reaching teeth. Even as her mouth snapped shut, taking his arm with it, he kept spinning and reached behind his back to catch the Hungry Sword. The sword landed in his open palm. The teeth immediately gnawed at his palm, but his steel palm was strong enough to resist their bite. He tossed it over his shoulder and caught it in front of him, catching the hilt this time to hold it properly.
Blood stained the puppet mountain’s porcelain white lips a lurid crimson. She swallowed, stealing his hand away permanently, and smiled.
“Smile while you can.” Ike spun around and slammed the Hungry Sword into her with his other hand. Lightning crackled forth, not meant to strike the mountain—what was a single bolt of lightning on a mountain, after all—but to empower Ike’s arm even further. His arm burned from the ferocity of the lightning he forced through it. His skin glowed a faint red in long, branching lines, and the scent of burning pork filled the air as his flesh crisped. The stroke was unrefined, nothing but raw power and brutality behind it, but that was all he needed. The Hungry Sword smashed into her mask.
Cracks bit into the porcelain. With a horrible crrk-crrk-crrrrrrk, they ran through the surface, darting all the way to the edges of the mask. The mask trembled. It held for a split second, then shattered.
White shards rained down. Underneath, a flat stone plane was revealed; the mountain hadn’t bothered to give itself a face beneath the mask, or perhaps, whoever had shaped this golem from the mountain hadn’t bothered. Ike hopped back. Holding his breath, he waited while his arms regenerated, the one completely regrowing, the other one sizzling as it healed the burns.
“Whoa… Hey, Ike. Mind if I take a nibble?”
Ike turned. He narrowed his eyes at Wisp.
“What? You’ll grow it back,” she said, as if it were a completely reasonable thing to suggest.
“No.”
The mountain trembled. Its whole body shook. Chunks of stone fell away as its strange, large body deteriorated. Ike jumped off, while Wisp hopped to the wall. Mag circled nearby, watching warily from the air.
A booming voice echoed down the hallway. “Wha… who…”
“Are you awake? You were almost puppetized,” Ike informed the mountain.
“You… you!” The voice changed from disoriented to an angry snarl in a heartbeat. A grinding sound echoed out, louder than anything Ike had heard before.
“Hey, it’s okay! I’m just wearing a disguise. I’m no puppet,” Ike reassured her, totally removing his mask this time.
“I won’t fall for it again. You die!” she snarled.
Ike spread his hands. “We just broke the mask off your face. We aren’t here to hurt you!”
“Uh, Ike…” Wisp said.
“What? I’m negotiating.” The mountain hadn’t thrown hands yet, literally or figuratively, so he figured he still had room to talk. A quick glance confirmed that no more golems or stone bodies were forming. If he stood here and negotiated properly, they might gain a powerful new ally. The mountain was unlikely to fight with them, but she might provide a safe space for them, a base within Brightbriar’s lands where they could hide from the puppets.
Wisp nodded. “The walls…”
He looked around. “Yeah?”
A second later, Ike paused and stared at the walls again. Dust trembled on the ground. He narrowed his eyes. “Are they getting closer?”
“Yes! Run, you idiot!” Wisp said, hopping off the wall to openly flee. Mag winged off at top speed. The two of them sped toward the horizon.
Ike hesitated just a moment, staring up at the mountain wall. The way the mountain had reacted… it was almost as though it recognized him. But that wasn’t possible. He was just a slumrat from a far away city. He’d never been here.
We crafted you.
Llewyn’s dying words echoed through his ears, unbidden. Ike shook his head hard, forcibly expelling them. It wasn’t possible. He wasn’t a puppet. He’d seen his own flesh and blood often enough to know that. When he was cut, he bled. No black goo oozed out when he lost a limb. He was human. Nothing but a human.
“Ike! If you want to become a sandwich, at least do it somewhere I can eat you!” Wisp shouted back at him.
Ike shook his head, startling into motion. He chased after Wisp and Mag, leaving the mountain behind. It wouldn’t answer him now. It was far too incensed. Maybe this is all nothing, anyways. The mountain had just been busted out of being puppetized. It was probably confused. If he paused and waited for it to not be confused, it might not think it recognized him… but he wasn’t going to stand around and get crushed to find out.
