Recursion Error
Episode 107- Taste the blood
"So, uh... from the Yagyu clan, huh?" Within the metal corridor were two Mobians, dressed in the traditional attire of their homeland in Yurashia. Tight-fitting outfits with light armoring, with the one being addressed by the other, a bat Mobian, wearing a face mask over his mouth. The other, a lynx, awkwardly rocked back and forth on his feet while speaking and looking towards the doorway they were guarding.
It was their assignment, after all. Stand in this corridor and guard this open doorway.
The bat Mobian made a slow blink and slowly looked towards the weasel speaking to him. "... Ah-huh," he answered.
"Ah. Er. Excellent." The lynx cleared his throat, still rocking back and forth on his feet as he tried his best to strike up conversation. "It, uh... it any good? In that clan? I hear it can be kind of rough there."
"Ah-huh."
"... Neat." The lynx clapped his hands together, breathing out awkwardly as he looked back at the doorway they were guarding. It lead to another corridor, currently enshrouded by darkness due to the lights in that section of the Egg Dome being out of commission "Any clue how long it is they're going to be having us guarding this spot?" he asked.
The bat made a small grunt. "No," he answered.
"Oh. Okay." The lynx clicked his tongue in acknowledgement. "I'm only asking because it's been a few hours and I really don't think this is the best use of our time-"
There was a scream in the darkened corridor they stood in front of. Both Mobians looked towards the source of the scream, and both stilled at the sound of it. It'd been blood-curdling, terror filled. And it'd cut off abruptly, so suddenly and without warning. Whatever it was, though, neither of the two were able to see. That corridor was still pitch-black.
"Uhm..." The lynx blinked nervously, looking back and forth between the bat and the black corridor. "So we should... that's something we should check, right?" he asked, as if attempting to confirm.
"We're to guard this entranceway to the joining corridor," the bat succinctly answered, tone calm and stoic. Though there was the slightest bit of hesitation to his tone, his eyes still locked onto the darkness ahead of them. "That section is currently being tended to by others. It is not our responsibility."
"Okay, but that scream sounded bad," the lynx pointed out. "And I feel like us guarding this specific spot entails investigating potential danger of said spot, which, by virtue of how bad that scream sounded, means we should go check out that sound."
"... Hm." The fabric of the bat's face mask rippled slightly as he pursed his lips, dipping his head down slightly in thought. He didn't actually voice whatever potential thoughts going through his head - only continued to hum and think.
"... Alright, well, how about you just stay while I go check it out," the lynx suggested as he leaned his head towards the darkened corridor. "That counts, right? As long as we stay in-"
There was a pair of eyes looking at them from within the darkness of that corridor, he realized. Irises glowing green and stretched to vertical slits, boring right at the two Mobians.
"E-er... Li?" A startled sort of gasp left the lynx as he stepped back a bit, nervously glancing between the eyes and the Mobian bat standing next to him. "That's... that's you, right, Li? Could you try saying something if-"
A clawed had reached out from the darkness, just a bit too fast for the lynx to properly register. There's been a quiet squelch! sound he'd heard besides him, making him momentarily freeze in fright from the sound before slowly turning towards the sound.
He'd seen what had made that sound the moment he turned and looked. A human hand with blackened fingers and claws reaching out from the darkness, grabbing his bat companion's head, claws digging into his face's flesh. There'd been no time to react before the hand pulled, a louder squelching, cracking sound following.
The frontal plate of the bat's skull hand been torn off entirely and pulled back into the darkness. He'd heard such sounds. Muscles and tendons snapping as the face was pulled away, bone cracking, blood splashing to the ground as the bat stumbled a bit. A choked sort of wheeze left his exposed throat, the innards of his head having been exposed from the removal of his face, eyes absent due to being pulled along with it. His heart had pumped, causing blood to spurt out from he exposed arteries and veins in his head before his brain slowly began to slide out from the massive hole in front of his skull cap. It'd ended up sliding out completely, hanging on by the brain steam as the bat's body fell over entirely, twitching on the ground as blood pooled around him.
For the lynx's part he'd been stunned at the sight, small, fearful whimpers leaving him as he looked down at the body. From the corner of his eyes there'd been movement. Green trails of light following the eyes as they moved out from the darkness, the owner's head staring right at the lynx as the eyes' owner moved in blurring speeds.
The Mobian had screamed out from the sight. He'd reached behind his back, attempting to grab at the sword strapped between his shoulder blades. His fingers had only managed to barely brush against the sword handle before Sorun's own sword flashed out, disconnecting his head from his shoulders.
"Truly worthless." It's the only thing Sorun could think to say as he looked down at the two corpses. He ran the flat end of his sword along his tongue, licking up the blood sticking to the blade and briefly shuddering from the blissful taste that settled on his tongue. He took a fraction of a moment to get used to the burst of energy that spread throughout his body before he continued sprinting forwards.
Get to the throne room.
It was about the one, solitary goal Sorun had in mind. Get to the throne room because there was a good chance Snively and Regina were in there. Concerning the general layout of the Egg Dome, Sorun flat-out didn't know it. He'd only been once, when the entirety of Knothole had been kidnapped by Eggman and he had to be the one to go save everyone.
That'd been one room. The one with all the pods. This was a series of corridors and connecting rooms, nearly maze-like. Armories and bunk rooms and such. Random background Sorun didn't care enough to pay attention to.
Oh, but the Mobians, though. So many of those ninjas and such brought over from Yurashia, practically infesting the place. At some point Sorun assumed some general alert went out across the facility, because they stopped being surprised at seeing them. There were certainly a lot of emotions he saw flitting over all their faces before he cut them down, but surprise wasn't among them.
Fairly sure, at least. He wasn't stopping to pay attention. He wasn't stopping at all. Keep moving forwards - it was the one single, solitary goal Sorun had in mind.
"So many of you!" He'd rounded another hallway, sprinting all the while, digging his clawed hand into the metal floor to act as a pivot to turn his body so he could keep up momentum. More Mobians down that hallway, holding swords, spears. Some even had bows. He almost felt amused at how hard they were sticking to the ninja aesthetic. Bows. For him.
He swung his sword out, completely carving a Mobian in half, blood spraying out against the walls, Sorun's face, his clothes. He didn't skip a beat, didn't even stop to acknowledge it as he moved forwards to the next ones. Two Mobians.
Sorun's left hand holding the sword thrust outward, piercing the throat of one of the Mobians and dragging the sword through his neck to completely cut it open. His right, clawed hand shot out and grabbed the other one by the face. He'd slammed his head into the wall, enough for his head to become complete pulp as it smashed against the surface. He kept moving, ducking his head to the side slightly to duck under an arrow heading for one of his eyes.
Slow. It'd been... so slow to his own vision. He cut the leg off the Mobian who'd shot at him, making him scream out as he collapsed to a single knee. In the same motion Sorun reversed the motion of his sword and slashed up, right through the head of the Mobian to chop it in half.
He breathed out, looking further down the hall. Even more Mobians, dressed in that ridiculous ninja getup. He almost wondered how loyal it was they were to whatever these clans they belonged to they were. That they would all stand there, trembling slightly as they held their weapons and stared him down. Stand there they did, though. Some even ran at Sorun. Either out of blind loyalty or because they genuinely did believe there was some chance against him-
One of the ones who'd run at him made some... strange twisting maneuver with their sword against his when they approached. He'd felt a strange torque as a result, the force wrenching the handle from his grip and disarming him completely, causing his own sword to drop down on the ground, reverting back into the Emerald the second he lost contact with it.
"Ah...?" He glanced up at the bat Mobian who disarmed him. They didn't have nothing going for them, it seemed. It wasn't wholly blind confidence - there was skill there. More sword skill than his, even. He'd still reached out and grabbed at his arm, pulling it right off. The bat had screamed as blood sprayed out against Sorun, some catching his mouth and causing his eyes to widen further when the taste hit him.
He grabbed the Mobian by the throat and beat him over the face with the severed arm. Did it until his saw his facial bones cave in, and then flipped the severed arm around. Stabbing the sharpened bones sticking out through the end of the arm through they eye of the Mobian, who made little more than a wheezing gasp as Sorun tossed his body against the floor hard enough for blood to splash over the metal.
"Blood was the right idea I guess." Sorun looked back ahead towards the Emerald right at the moment he caught the sight of steel slashing towards his face. He'd blinked out once when he felt a long groove be cut into his face by yet another Mobian's sword, another lynx, the sting lasting for barely a moment as the wound rapidly healed shut and disappeared. "This feels so much better with a body that doesn't break down from a few hits..."
Better. That word Sorun thought stuck with him for some reason. It was a thought that made him ponder as his clawed hand swiped at the Mobian's jaw and tore it off entirely. There'd been a wet, garbled scream of pain by him as the lynx stumbled back, blood flowing down from his mouth as his eyes bugged out in panic. Sorun's clawed hand swiped upwards this time, fingers piercing through the roof of his mouth and tearing through flesh and bone, exiting through the Mobian's eyes. He yanked, pulling the frontal plate of his skull right out of his head and causing him to collapse dead on the floor.
Nothing about this was supposed to be better. That was Sorun's one chief thought as he stepped over the body, licking at the blood on his hands and feeling another burst of that invigorating power flow through him. He'd kicked the Emerald back up to his hand to reform his katana, the other Mobians in front of him stepping back fearfully. It was supposed to be grisly, morbid work. A visceral loss of life that wasn't to be celebrated in any regard.
And yet...
His body surged forwards again, moving with unnatural speed. Sword flicked out, cutting another Mobian in half. That feeling again, what... what was that? He was feeling something. Relief that this was one less person that could hurt him and his? Vindication? Retribution for everything done to him? Everything done back home? None of that seemed right.
Satisfaction?
"..." Another Mobian swung towards Sorun. He met the blade with his own, power coursing through the Yamato's blade. It simply cut through the sword with zero resistance whatsoever and sliced the Mobian's head right off his shoulders. And Sorun's brows furrowed, just the tiniest bit. The feeling wasn't there that time.
He turned towards another Mobian taking a swing at him. He cut the power coursing through the sword off, and then swung up to meet it. There was a satisfying clang! that echoed in the hall, a few metal sparks flying from the contact, and there it was. That tiny, near-imperceptible feeling of excitement that shot through Sorun when he heard that sound. Blocking the sword, sidestepping the Mobian and piercing his chest with Yamato, dragging the sword through his body and out his side, barely even sticking around to watch his body drop as he continued sprinting down the hall.
Satisfaction.
Oh, it wasn't optimal in any stretch of the word. Sorun knew that. Optimal play would be to just... instantly cut through everything with Yamato. That would practically be child's play, it would. There was a point where he did do that, coming across a bridge across a wide, seemingly bottomless gap between two sections of the facility. A wide bridge with nearly a dozen more of those Yurashia Mobians at the end, more bats and lynxes, all holding bows. Archers. Aiming at Sorun. That arrows were easy enough to dodge, body weaving back and forth between the dreadfully slow projectiles. Power crackled along the Yamato's edge again as he slashed it forwards.
Dozens upon dozens of slashes assaulted the bodies of the Mobians despite the meters of distance between them and Sorun. Cut apart to pieces immediately before they had any notion of what was even happening, Sorun sprinting right by the parts and pieces of their corpses falling to the ground. That was something, but it didn't elicit those earlier feelings of satisfaction Sorun had felt.
He had to go fast. He knew that, knew that delaying possibly put others back in New Mobotropolis at risk. Dimitri's words were still ringing faintly in the back of his head. It was part of why he'd sprinted past all the minced corpses at such a rapid pace, blazed on down through the hallways while cutting down everything in his-
When Sorun had rounded a corner the edge of a sword had been swinging right towards him, as if somebody had been waiting behind the corner. His body dropped to the ground as he slid across the floor and under the blade. His clawed right hand tore at the ground to stop his momentum, metallic sparks getting kicked up from the action as he stopped, whirled around onto his feet, and stabbed his sword through the brain of the Mobian who'd attempted to blindside him.
Another ran up to him, some shrill cry leaving his mouth. Of determination or terror, Sorun couldn't tell which. Nor did he waste time attempting to discern it as he took a single step back to dodge the blade, eyes rapidly flicking back and forth between the Mobian and the blade that narrowly missed Sorun. He tried gripping his katana with both hands and slashed upwards, right through the torso of the Mobian. And there was the feeling again. Dodging, countering, feeling the weight and resistance of a body being cut through without any powers making the cuts effortless.
... It couldn't be that much a difference. A matter of a couple minutes - that's all it was. It couldn't amount to much, Sorun reasoned. What was burning through a couple more minutes if Sorun chose to not do this as efficiently and optimally as possible? It wasn't a significant difference. Not one that mattered in any important capacity. He could afford to slow down just a little bit.
A new room he'd entered. A more circular with multiple doorways around that lead off into adjacent hallways. Sorun was less focused on that and more at the Mobians surrounding him, slowly circling in. They were clutching their weapons tightly enough he saw them shaking in their grasps. Some wearing fear-laden expressions in their eyes, others' faces set in grim determination, though it was hard to make out precisely due to the facemasks some wore. But all in his way regardless, which was as far as Sorun cared to see.
He gripped both hands around the handle of Yamato, curiously eyeing all the surrounding Mobians. To cut them all to pieces instantly with Yamato - that would be easy. But he found himself not... wanting to do that. He wanted to recapture that feeling. But they weren't advancing. They were just slowly circling, surrounding, getting into positions but not actually doing anything. Going so slow when he just wanted them to move and swing already!
Eventually Sorun got too impatient and burst forwards, sword whistling through the air as he decapitated one of the Mobians. The others surged forwards towards Sorun once he made that first move, and he found himself feeling gleeful of all things for the fact. Dodging a sword left, stepping right to avoid a stab. Batting blades away with the flat end of his own, watching the sparks fly through the air. Blood splashing onto his skin and clothing every time he saw an opening and slashed at one of them, cleaving their bodies apart.
He'd hated fighting all those times in the past. Sorun remembered it vividly: back when he was fighting with the Freedom Fighters, how every single time he went with the others to go fight those robots of Eggman's there'd been that underlying fear and panic of that being it, that there was a chance he'd die there. He hated all that conflict so much every time. Wanted it to just end. And when it came to the bigger fights, the Enerjak and King Shadow fights, there had been so much going on in Sorun's head that he hadn't had an opportunity to even think of his own feelings at those times.
Things felt much clearer here. These were wholly different feelings he was having right now. There was no fear; why would there be? With a body that healed wounds so rapidly, was so much stronger and faster than all these Mobians to the point that not a single one was landing a single blow on Sorun? And this was so much more engaging than fighting those robots! Gone were the predictable patterns, the familiar moves he'd memorized from those models, that inherent instinct of just knowing how they'd attack from the smallest movements.
No, this was different, fighting these Mobians. Different levels of strength and skill. Different moves, different reactions, some managed to even dodge and block some of Sorun's swings, even if blocking resulted in the bones in their arms shattering from the sheer strength Sorun's own swings brought. It was as if every single different Mobian Sorun fought forced him to intuit their intentions and attacks differently each time, making him adapt over and over and change things up, even if it was ever so slightly.
It was thrilling. Fun in a way that Sorun had never expected, not from this of all things. But it was. The simple fact of the matter was that he was having fun cutting and slicing through all these Mobians. The intensity of it, the satisfaction of solving every little bout by way of seeing a cut-apart body fall to his feet as he moved onto the next one, that sweet-tasting blood splashing around everywhere. Oh, how easy it was to get lost in it all. No, why would he ever use Yamato's power of separation to end things so quickly when this felt so much better?
"I love this." As Sorun sliced upwards, having sliced a Mobian from groin to head in such a way their body was completely split down the middle, both halves falling to the sides and drenching him with blood, an absolutely euphoric expression had settled on his face. He licked some of the stray blood off his face, a few more of his strands of hair turning from black to white as he turned to the rest of the Yurashia Mobians with bliss clear in his eyes. "It's so much fun...!"
Oh. The two left were... running. He'd heard their swords clatter to the ground as the remaining two Mobians turned around and just began running away. Sorun had blinked once, a feeling of irritation flashing through him as he felt his mood suddenly spoiled.
"Gah, quit it." Sorun had run up being one of the retreating Mobians. One hand grabbed at his head, wrenching it to the side and exposing his neck for Sorun to plunge his sword down into. It'd been a quick thrust - his sword plunging in and out too quickly for the Mobian to get so much as a garbled scream of pain out before he'd swung the sword forward, a large gash appearing on the metal floor in front of the other fleeing Mobian.
He'd stopped when he saw that gash, skidding to a halt as he whirled back around towards Sorun. The lower half of his face wasn't visible due to the black cloth mask over his mouth, but his eyes were wide. Fearful and shaking, heavy breaths leaving him as he watched Sorun toss the dead body over his shoulder.
"..." Soru blinked once at the Mobian, and then looked to the side. At one of the swords that had been dropped by them. He walked over towards them and kicked one of the swords out towards the lynx, the blade skittering across the ground before coming to rest at the Mobian's feet. He just breathed out heavier, looking up and down between Sorun and the sword without even motioning to get it.
"... Don't wanna try?" Sorun asked. There was a hopeful edge to his tone as he cocked his head at him, though it was mainly filled with disappointment. He didn't want victims who just ran away and left themselves wide open. He wanted fights. He just wanted him to take a swing and actually try.
But he wasn't picking the sword up. He wasn't doing anything, actually. Wasn't running, wasn't fighting, wasn't dropping to his knees and begging Sorun. Just... standing there, shaking. Making small, unintelligible and high-pitched, frightened whimpers that were intermingled with his breath as he just stood there shaking and looking at Sorun. Completely frozen with terror to the spot without moving.
And then the frightened whimpers turned to choked gags when Sorun strolled past him, dragging Yamato across his throat without ever breaking stride. Not even bothering to glance behind him as blood sprayed out from his wound to splatter against the wall as the body fell behind him. The only thing that did serve to improve his mood even the smallest bit was when he licked the blood off his sword, feeling rejuvenated by another burst of energy surging through him.
"No, no, no. None of that."
Oh, they were locking the doors now. Large, metal bulkhead doors that would slid down from the corridor walls that were multiple inches thick with steel.
It didn't actually matter. He just kept cutting through the doors with Yamato and running through them. And there were always just more of those Mobians from Yurashia on the other side waiting for him, dressed in all that ridiculous ninja garb. Bats and lynxes of all colors that all just started to... blur together the further Sorun went and the more of them he fought. He wasn't really even paying attention to what they were specifically nor did he care enough to try and realize it. Yurashia Mobians. Ninjas. That's all he was focusing on. Killing anything that looked like that.
Furry blood bags standing between him and his goal that he was having fun cutting through. That was all they were, as far as Sorun was concerned. None of them were even lasting longer than a couple of seconds - much too short to commit any to memory. Which was primarily the reason he couldn't recall how many he'd killed by this point.
Hell, he didn't even know how long he'd been doing this. He didn't even feel tired. All the Chaos energy he kept consuming along with all this blood was likely ravaging his body, but hell if it wasn't boosting him so much in the short term. He just felt more and more and more awake the further he went along with this.
It was actually starting to become a problem.
"No no no no..." Everything was going too slow for Sorun. Like that sword currently being swung at his face. With how cranked up Sorun's reflexes were it was just... so laughably easy to sidestep it, slice to the side with Yamato and sever the Mobian's arms. Pull his elbows back to aim the sword at Sorun's side as the armless Mobian stumbled back screaming, pierce forwards and stab completely through his side. Dodge left to avoid another attack, swing his arm back to cut the other Mobian's head cleanly in half without looking back.
The damn arrows some at the other end of the hallway he was in were firing at him. Even those weren't cutting it. He... saw them flying towards him in midair, was child's play to either bat them away with Yamato or just sidestep them.
"Too easy." He'd vaulted over a Mobian who swung at him in a wide, horizontal swing. Arcing right over his body, clawed hand scraping against the ceiling and sending metal sparks raining down as he landed behind him. Spinning around to literally cut his legs off from beneath him, with Sorun catching him by the head before he dropped to the ground. "Everything's too slow. Or I'm too fast. Is it me?" Sorun wondered as he tossed the legless Mobian into the arms of another. In a pure gut-reaction move the Mobian had dropped his sword and caught the legless one, only for Sorun to then skewer both of them at the end of his sword. "I need... I need..."
He looked down at Yamato as he tore it from from Mobians' bodies. The problem was this, he realized. The sword. Even without using its actual power it was too light, too nimble. He was too experience in using it and was too comfortable with it. It was making things too easy.
"I need a worse sword. I need that sword."
In a flash of blue sparks and whirling blue particles the sword changed. Where once Sorun had been holding a long, slender katana, now it was a claymore sword with a longer, straighter, and much wider blade. And so much heavier, too. Sorun had actually felt himself tip over a bit and nearly dropped Rebellion all together when the sheer weight of this sword he wasn't used to holding threatened to slip from his grip.
"Oh, huh." Sorun blinked once in surprise. It certainly was a different feeling. He decided to try it out a bit, swinging the large blade at the Mobian nearest to him and- Oh! He'd actually dodged it! The blade was moving so much slower than when Sorun was swinging Yamato due to its weight and his inexperience that the Mobian actually managed to duck under it!
A wide, gleeful grin spread across Sorun's face as the excitement began rushing back. As he made a second swing and managed to chop Rebellion down onto the Mobian's shoulder he realized even that felt different than using Yamato. That sword sliced cleanly through things, but this, this cleaved and tore. Completely rent flesh apart through sheer force rather than precision, and he could feel all that running up the blade and through his arms.
He lifted Rebellion up out of the Mobian's shoulder. Brought it down, cleaving through half his torso, and then pushed upwards at a diagonal angle. The sword tore right through his torso once more, passing through an arm and right up through his other shoulder. The sheer force that went behind the swing practically made the body parts fly apart, a crescent trail of blood briefly being traced up through the air behind the blade as more blood splashed against Sorun.
When Sorun ran forwards right through all the viscera and towards the next nearest Mobian he'd actually panicked and tried to block with his weapon. Sorun had aimed Rebellion forwards and pierced through, watching as the tip of the sword smashed through the Mobian's sword and sent shards spilling everywhere as he impaled the Mobian's torso. And the weight behind the sword had carried him forward, actually making Sorun stumble a few couple of steps from the unexpected tug.
"This thing is so unwieldly. So heavy and awkward to swing around." He lifted the Mobian's body up while it was impaled by the sword, opening his mouth to catch the blood dripping down from his wound and onto Sorun's face. He'd only kept the act up for a few seconds before swinging his arm to the side, the body flying off and impacting the wall with a wet crunch! noise. When the next Mobian tried swinging his own blade at Sorun and he'd responded in kind by meeting it with Rebellion, he'd ended up knocking the sword out of the Mobian's hand entirely. And evidently broke his hands in the process if his fingers bending in wrong directions said anything. And when he'd tried swinging down the last Mobian in the room besides him, the one that had been using the bow, dove to push him out of the way and actually managed it, Sorun swinging so slowly he'd missed both of them. "Gah, this thing sucks to use. I love it."
He'd still ended up readjusting his aim and stabbing downwards. Impaling them both through their abdomens, the both of them screaming as Sorun walked forwards while dragging them along, bodies skewered onto Rebellion's blade. He'd lazily swung forwards, dislodging their bodies and watching them roll across the bloodied flooring before coming to a halt.
Sorun stepped between the two of them. One of them, the one with the broken fingers, was already dead. Bled out right there. The other one was still clinging to life, small whimpering gasps leaving leaving him as he weakly tried to crawl forwards, leaving a trail of blood underneath him from all the blood leaking from his pierced stomach.
"How many of you are there?" Sorun wondered aloud to him, using his foot to push him over onto his back. The Mobian wasn't even looking at Sorun. There were quick, rapid gasps leaving his body as he looked up at the ceiling, the rest of his body unmoving as he just... laid there. Breathing. "I mean, I've gone through I don't even know how many of you. It's actually impressive you guys went so far to bat for Regina, that's... hell. You people are built different over in Yurashia, loyalty like that."
Sorun wasn't even joking around with that; he couldn't believe they kept trying no matter how many he'd cut through. He barely even understood why, but maybe that was just ignorance on his part for how all these... "clans" that monkey guy in New Mobotropolis mentioned worked. He knew next to nothing on Yurashia culture, so he couldn't understand what kept driving them on. If it was some sense of loyalty or blind honor or something along those lines.
"Ah, well, doesn't matter too much... eh?" Sorun stopped when he noticed the panting Mobian beneath him had suddenly gone still, not moving as glassy eyes vacantly stared up at the ceiling. He'd knelt down on a single knee, grabbing one of his arms and lifting it up. "Ah. You done?" Sorun asked, letting go and watching the arm limply fall down on the corpse's chest. "Yeah, you're done. Hm?"
His right arm certainly didn't look like how it was supposed to. Didn't look human, not like the rest of his body. Where once there was pale skin on the palm of his hand and underside of his arm there were shimmering, dark blue scales. Where there was skin on he upper portion of his hand and arm there was now thick, blackened hide. The arm as a whole looked... different. Inhuman. Familiar.
The sight made Sorun pause as he stared, an almost forlorn expression crossing his features. He knew instantly what it was, what it meant. And to think it'd progressed this quickly from him consuming all that blood... it made him wonder just how many months of his life he'd burned through doing everything he'd just done. Or years, even.
"Can't have something for nothing, I guess..."
And then he heard the whistling sound rapidly approaching from behind him. Sorun whirled around, blinking once in surprise when he saw the sharpened piece of metal flying directly towards his face. Looking closer it was some... circular piece of metal with four sharpened points, spinning through the air and heading straight for his eyes. And then he blinked again when he realized it was a shuriken. A shuriken of all things.
It's been too slow, of course. Sorun simple rose his index finger up to catch the shuriken by threading his finger through the hole in the center of the shuriken, spinning it around as his looked at the weapon in something bordering on disbelief. "... You all really take this ninja thing seriously, huh?" he asked, almost sounding surprised. "Well, if nothing else I can respect a bunch of powerless Mobians choosing the blade in an age of guns. 'Cause hey. If that's how you wanna roll..."
He stood up to his feet fully while tossing the shuriken aside with such force it'd shattered to pieces when it impacted with the wall. He tiled his head when he saw a strange sight down the hallway: shimmering shapes. And then a small "ahh" noise left his mouth when he saw those shimmering shapes gain colors, definition. The sight of Mobians just appearing from thin air, standing in the hall or clinging to the walls. Mobians that were all different from the ones previous. Chameleons with various colors of scales, blues, greens, some purples. Five in total. Wearing very different ninja garb from the rest. Shoes and gloves styled in a way that he recognized.
"There's a familiar sight," Sorun found himself murmuring out. As far as he could tell they were all just different-colored Espios. They even dressed the same as him. It made all sorts of questions pop up in-
Every single one of those questions instantly vanished when Sorun felt the kunai stab through the back of his neck and stab through the front. There'd been a sixth one, still invisible that had snuck up behind him to stab him in the neck. And for Sorun's part, he just... looked down at the blade piercing through his neck. And stared. Almost in disbelief at the audaciousness of it all.
And then he rolled his eyes, reaching behind him to grab the chameleon Mobian by the head and slam him into the wall hard enough that his head collapsed and splattered against it, and then reached up to tear the kunai out from his throat.
On little more than a fanciful whim, Sorun tried throwing it. It was... phenomenally harder throwing a kunai than he'd anticipated. Instead of going straight the weapon ended up just spinning through the air and curving into a wall without even coming close to hitting one of the other five chameleons. He rolled his eyes at the sight and darted forwards, Rebellion skittering across the ground as he dragged the claymore behind him.
With the closest chameleon Sorun had raised his sword up. And then was paused when he'd raised the sword too high, causing its edge and tip to catch along the wall besides him. The chameleon saw it as an opportunity to charge forwards with a small knife; Sorun had just torn the sword through the wall, leaving behind a massive gash as he cleaved the sword through the chameleon and cut him in half. The same for the others: swinging the sword in a wide arc, catching two across the chest to tear through their ribs and organs. The fourth was cut down in much the same way.
The fifth, he'd tried sneaking up behind Sorun. They seemed to do that a lot - sneaking. He straightened his left arm out behind him, piercing in his direction with Rebellion and feeling the blade stab right through the chameleon's torso. He'd made a wheezing, garbled sort of gasp, shakily looking down at the sword piercing him before Sorun tore it out and batted him over the face with the flat end of the sword. Hard enough the bones in the chameleon's face shattered and flattened on impact and sent him sprawling onto the ground, body unmoving.
"... Well, you look the part, at least. Not sure what your relationship to Espio is, if any, but you certainly didn't share his talent," Sorun murmured out under his breath as he looked between all the chameleons' corpses, taking in the sight of them all. For all he said, though, he couldn't deny that there were a startlingly large amount of similarities between these chameleons and Espio to be chalked up to coincidence. The clothing, the fighting styles. Sonic saying Espio had been seen here with the other Mobians from Yurashia.
"..." Sighing out, Sorun shook his head and continued moving back down the hallway. It was whatever. Espio and whatever was going on with him was about the last possible thing Sorun was concerned with at the moment. He was more focused on getting to the throne room than anything else.
Jian would easily go as far to say she genuinely hated all the clans in Yurashia.
Would be that life there was easy. It could have been easy, too, which hurt the most for her. She could clearly envision living a calm, easy life in her home village could be easy.
But then there were the gods-forsaken clans who just... seemed to make it their life's missions to make the lives of others in Yurashia and the Dragon Kingdom much, much more difficult than it needed to be. Between the Yagyu Clan who would ransack helpless villages for selfish gain, or the Raiju Clan who seemed to do whatever they please at their own whim. The other two clans who, as far as Jian was concerned, did little to nothing to actually help with matters.
There had been that one monkey. Khan. He'd... definitely tried to help things. Him and some others, and Jian could at least appreciate the effort. Even if all those efforts came up too short to matter.
But as it was, the entire world seemed to have it out for Jian, and she had a little sister to take care of above everything else. She wouldn't be ashamed of selling herself as a sellsword as a result. She was strong - stronger than most. At least, she liked to think so. She made sure that every clan knew so whenever one of them hired her for some such thing or another. Less to create chaos for all of them out of sheer spite and more to just support herself and her sister. And it got eyes off their village.
When that Regina Overlander person had overtaken all the clans to put them under a single banner of the Iron Dominion, Jian couldn't have cared less. If anything, she'd gotten a derisive chuckle out of it, knowing it must have hurt the clans' pride at least somewhat, being subordinate under her. And when she'd been offered to job to offer the Iron Dominion's assistance in the invasion of Northamer, she hadn't put too much thought into it. The money was good. Money her sister needed.
She was quickly realizing she never should have taken this job.
Jian genuinely didn't know what to think. At first she'd been confused as to why all these clansmen had been running past her towards the empty throne room she'd been guarding the outside of. Standing inside it and looking around, though, now she was just flummoxed. Bats from the Yagyu Can and lynxes from the Raiju Clan all huddling around, looking frightened and out of their minds and mumbling fearfully among themselves. All because of some "monster" they kept blabbering about. Some man-eating demon that was tearing through the entire complex.
She knew who they were talking of. That one that had been in the holding cells - she'd heard the name "Sorun" tossed around and assumed it'd been his name, the one with the ruined hand chained in that cell. The one who definitely looked like an Overlander, but nobody could seem to get a clear answer of what he truly was.
And now... now he had every single clan member in this place cowering and hiding in this throne room. She'd never seen a more pathetic sight - half of them had even dropped their weapons while fleeing to this place. At any other time Jian would have taken a personal note of gratification at seeing them all in such a state, but at this point in time, with this context, knowing she was in the same boat as them... she couldn't help but feel disconcerted.
And then there was an odd sight of the two chameleons over in the corner of the room. As far as Jian had been aware the Iron Queen hadn't even brought anyone from that clan over to this continent, though she might have been incorrect in that statement. It's not like anyone told her these things. She'd been relegated to guard duty before all this.
"I didn't realize anyone from the Shinobi Clan were here with all the others," Jian mumbled out to the pair of them after wandering over, glancing at them out of the corner of her eyes.
The pair of chameleons shared a glance with one another before looking at Jian. "You're the mercenary hired to help bolster the Iron Queen's forces?" the teal-colored chameleon asked, before making a derisive scoff. "The son of the Bride of Constant Vigil has been going around Yurashia petitioning the clans to abandon the Iron Queen."
Jian made a slow, uninterested blink. "On the grounds of...?"
"None of the clan heads are particularly fond of the idea of being under the yolk of the Iron Queen. And besides that, the blue one is with him. You know the one," said the other chameleon, a yellow one. "Him and an official of the Republic in Northamer being invaded, that princess. They're pledging to defeat the Iron Queen should the clansmen with her lay down their-"
"None of this is relevant to the current situation. I don't care," Jian interrupted, a harsh scoff leaving her. Of all the thing on her mind, clan politics certainly were not among them. "Why are you here specifically?"
"... Part of the request laid out by the son of the Bride of Constant Vigil was for members of the Shinobi Clan to come liberate a friend of his being held here - one by the name of Sorun. From what little I know he's supposed to be coming here to aid in what was supposed to be an escape," the teal chameleon said. And then he breathed out, looking ahead. "That was before we discovered Sorun was a blood-drunk monster killing and eating his way through everything that breaths. He was smiling through it."
Jian found herself quirking an eye ridge. "He even attempted to kill his would-be liberators?" she asked, sounding a bit skeptical.
The yellow chameleon shook his head. "He didn't seem to particularly care who we were. And we couldn't get a word in edgewise regardless; one of ours... panicked. Or perhaps he was so disgusted with what he saw he decided to just ignore orders. Whatever the case..." He huffed out a loud sigh, voice going quieter. Subdued, as if the wind had been taken out of him. "Whatever the case behind his reasoning, he stabbed that monster through the throat and it did absolutely nothing to stop him. That monster slaughtered him and our fellow clan brothers. The two of us only survived by remaining hidden and running away."
"Not that it will do us much good," the teal one added. "He was standing in the only pathway out from this place. Still is - it's why everyone hiding here seem so on edge." He glanced out to the rest of the room, at all the lynxes and bats shuffling around nervously. Some sitting on the ground with hopeless, vacant looks in their eyes. A couple were even sobbing or rocking back and forth in place, clutching their weapons. Only a few seemed concerned with guarding the one doorway in here, as if no one else even saw the point.
Truly had Jian never seen a more pathetic display. Which was mainly what had her so nervous. There had to be more than enough valid reasons for so many people to be acting this way and it all bode ill for her.
"He's coming here?" Jian asked, looking out towards the doorway.
"There's nothing else in this direction," the yellow one responded, voice sounding resigned. "Perhaps he's coming here hoping to slay the Iron Queen, not knowing she's currently overseeing the invasion in New Mobotropolis. Or maybe the monster just wants to kill us all. Both, perhaps. What does it matter when we're all dead."
Jian's eyes widened the smallest fraction. They really had all given up. Completely consigned themselves to their fate, practically waiting to die. It made her wonder just what everyone here had seen to have them in this state.
"Tch. Speak for yourselves," she ended up saying, shaking her head as she turned fully towards the doors. If everyone here wanted to cower and die that was their business, but she didn't have that luxury. Not with a little sister depending on her. "I'm leaving this place. My contract can be voided for all I care. No money is worth this."
"..." The teal chameleon's eyes flicked towards her. "There is but one pathway out from here and that monster stands in the direct path," he said. "And to face that thing is certain death from all I've seen. There's no way out."
"But you're certainly welcome to go try," the yellow added. "For whatever good it'll do you, mercenary."
She ignored the words for the most part from the chameleons. The dismissive scoffs made by others she passed, the sympathetic or vapid looks cast her way from the others had passed. She never received respect to begin with given her position and profession, but somehow this felt even worse than the usual snide looks or passing insults. It felt like they already writ her off as a dead woman walking. Like everyone here was already dead and she was just walking ahead to the front of the line.
Her right hand reached up to pull the straight sword from her back, hearing her leather glove tighten as she gripped it. She wouldn't die. Couldn't die.
Nobody protested when she opened the throne room doors and walked through. Jian doubted anyone even cared, though they did close the doors behind her uncomfortably quick. She rolled her eyes; it didn't matter too much since she'd never be returning to that place. She'd just breathed out heavily, turning forwards to the wide, darkened metal corridor in front of her.
And then the body came flying in, some lynx who hadn't made it to the throne room fast enough. Gored and mutilated beyond recognition. It'd slammed into the wall behind Jian, splattering apart to pieces from the impact before collapsing down to the floor. She'd heard the gore splatter from behind her, felt a few drops land on her fur which made it stand up on end.
More deep breaths. In and out, doing her best to focus herself and remain calm as she heard the slow footsteps approaching. She'd live. She'd live and make it back home.
Jian saw the eyes before anything else. Green-glowing, reptilian eyes in the dark, trails of green light following after them. And then she'd heard the chewing noises. Clear to see what it was when the monster - Sorun - stepped close enough that the dim overhead lights illuminated him clearly. He was drenched in so much blood all of his clothes were practically dyed red. Large sword bouncing lazily on his shoulder as his other hand held... a severed hand. One he was taking bites out of with his head tilted back, eyes looking down his nose and at Jian.
He looked wrong. All the blood, that strange hand of his. The eyes, the half-white hair, that look in his eyes that didn't even seem to acknowledge all this horror and carnage he'd been wreaking. He only looked like he was curious, as if Jian was an interesting sight to see. And it was here Jian was finally beginning to understand why it was everyone had wrote Sorun off as a monster.
He was a monster. Through and through.
And he was in her way.
There weren't exactly any signs in this damn place that pointed out where everything was, much to Sorun's consternation. But he'd been running around all over looking for the throne room, and of course the correct way to go had been literally the last single pathway to go down. Never failed. Helped that everyone who hadn't stuck around to fight him fled to this spot, so all he'd had to do was follow the panicked yells and shouts.
The doors leading to the throne room weren't even that overly impressive. The same goddamn set of metal, pneumatic doors that were around everywhere else here, but Sorun would acknowledge the facility used to be Eggman's old digs, and that man's taste in decor seemed to oscillate between overly ostentatious to coldly pragmatic depending on his mood.
Still. If nothing else, he found the damn room. Idly munching on a hand to keep the power coursing in him topped off as he approached. To say he was shocked to actually see someone there would be an understatement; eventually it got to a point everyone just started running. And she wasn't a lynx or bat, either. Not even those chameleons he'd seen. Badger Mobian, maybe? The black and white fur pattern said enough.
He vaguely recalled someone of that description. Maybe when he was back in that cell - Sorun wasn't too sure. Those times were foggy for the most part.
The badger looked confident, though, that was the thing. Or at least motivated. There was a sort of grim determination set in those blue eyes staring Sorun down, a straight sword gripped firmly in her hands and held right in front of her. Not shaking, form and breathing steady. He hadn't seen that yet.
And that smell... Sorun had to pause as he looked at her, nose deeply inhaling as he breathed in the air. She absolutely reeked of Chaos energy. Every other Mobian here he'd cut through he could detect hints of, but her, that sour, energetic smell was so prominent it was impossible to miss.
"Oh, you look like you got some chops on you." Sorun tossed the severed lynx hand he'd been munching on over his shoulder. Fur made the texture taste awful, anyway. "You the final bastion or whatever?"
The badger made a loud scoff. "Hardly," she said. "I couldn't care less about what happens to those behind me. I simply want out. You're in my way."
"That I am." Sorun looked over his shoulder at the empty corridor behind him. He looked back ahead at the badger. "It matter in any way?"
Her eyes narrowed a bit at Sorun. "All of this? Everything the Iron Dominion and the subservient clans have done in the name of the Iron Queen? It absolutely has nothing to do with me," she told Sorun. "I'm a simple sword arm for hire, that's all. I don't seek quarrel with you, so just let me pass and return home."
"Unfortunate. I don't care," Sorun instantly responded. He rose the Rebellion off his shoulder, slowly bringing it down to point its edge at Jian. "All this useless shit I've been cutting through was fun for a time, but now everything's too slow, too boring. You, though... you feel different." He made a small grin, cocking his head to the side as the claymore dissolved in a cloud of blue particles, only for those particles to instantly gather around and reform into a katana. "More than that I'm trying to maximize my chances of eviscerating every single person who woke up and decided this was the week to piss me off so severely, and I really want a taste of you."
There was a moment where Jian paused, an expression that was a mix of frustration and resignation on her face. She'd squared her hips, feet more securely planted to the ground as she tightened her grip on her sword. Expression morphing into one of grim determination as she stared right at Sorun. The only sound she offered by way of response was a slow, steady breath as she stared him down.
Sorun's grin widened. That's what he wanted to see so bad. No backing down, no running away like everyone else eventually did. "If you wanna pass, beat me. Not that hard, right?" Sorun asked, grabbing onto Yamato's handle with both hands as he brought the sword down to his side.
Not another word was said between the two of them. Just constant staring, Jian giving him that hardened glare while Sorun just looked on in amused anticipation. No sounds except for quiet breathing - not even a single creak of bone as they both faced each other motionlessly.
And then they'd moved. As if an invisible, soundless bell only they could hear had gone off. Their bodies blurred, crossing the length of the room in a blink and ending with them standing on complete opposite sides. Backs turned to each other with their swords held upwards.
Even as Sorun felt a giant gash be carved directly in the center of his face, he only grinned out more. Nearly as fast and strong as him. Absolutely nothing like everyone else here. Where the hell had she been this entire time? They were absolutely wasting her talents sticking her here.
"Ah, you do have a li'l somethin'-somethin' after all," Sorun said, sword dropping back to his side as he looked at Jian over his shoulder. Facial wound completely healed, only a bloody line left in place. "Ain't enough, though," he added, pointing over his shoulder and at her. "See?"
Jian had maintained that same pose after they'd moved and struck at each other in the blink of an eye. And then a thin, red line appeared where her arm met her shoulder. A sound that nearly sounded like a wet cracking noise was heard as the freshly-severed arm fell off from Jian's shoulder and collapsed onto the ground, blood spurting out from the shoulder wound.
To the badger's credit, she hadn't even cried out in pain, didn't even drop her sword to clutch at the wound. The most she offered was a single grunt of pain through clenched teeth as she whirled right back around to Sorun. Feet tapping against the floor as she ran right back towards him, readying her sword for another strike.
"Oh, right back into it!?" Sorun excitedly thought. Girl either had a high pain tolerance or really wanted to get out of here. A thought that kept lingering in the back of Sorun's mind as he swung Yamato, the two blades clashing off each other and causing sparks to fly between them. More strikes, over and over. Swing after swing, sometimes connecting, sometimes one or the other dodging. Pulling their body to the side to narrow avoid a swing only to retaliate with a hit of their own. Neither never really landing another blow.
And Sorun was thrilled by it all. The badger Mobian wasn't; she was looking more and more exhausted and fearful by the second, noticeably slowing down from the blood loss of a lost arm. It made Sorun deeply regret cutting her arm off with that first swing, because she was growing worn to the point that he didn't see this fight going further than a minute or two. Oh, but how good she was at this. For all her waning strength and how Sorun's physical prowess was steadily beginning to completely outclass her, she was keeping up. Blocking and deflecting all of Sorun's swings, deftly twirling around his stabs. He didn't dare use any of the Yamato's abilities for fear of making it too easy.
Not that she was making any headway against Sorun, either, who either sidestepped her swings or just completely batted her strikes away with his own sword. It was a fun back and forth, though, because he actually was trying to slash and stab at her throughout this whole exchange. Was putting in legitimate effort. But nothing landed, nothing connected, no matter how hard he tried. He liked it.
Even when it'd gotten to the point where Jian was forced down to a kneeling position, she didn't give up. Down and down again Sorun brought the katana blade down at different angles, and even with a dead-tired face that was heavily panting out Jian deflected it all with mad swings of her arm, all the way up until the blade on her sword broke. It'd cracked down half the length of the blade with one last block, the force behind it caused the severed end of the sword to be tossed up into the air behind her, spinning down and down until it'd impaled the metal floor behind her.
There was a small clatter heard as Jian, utterly exhausted, dropped her broken sword, last arm flopping down to her side. Even breathing out so heavily and defeated, she gave Sorun nothing but a defiant glare as he held Yamato up, pressing the tip of it right against her throat.
He pushed down, intent on piercing her throat entirely. To Sorun's surprise he'd missed - ended up just stabbing through the floor when she lurched her body away to the side right as he'd begun to make the movement to stab down. Her remaining arm scooping the broken blade up off the floor and holding it in a backwards grip as if the jagged thing were a knife.
"Still more!?" The corners of Sorun's mouth twitched upwards into a more delighted expression. She really was different from every other person in this place. Not just from looking different or wearing simple clothing when everyone else had armor or some sort of ridiculous-looking ninja getup. Oh, no, she was a special one. Just kept going and going.
Pulling the sword out from the ground, Sorun swung again. Jian had misjudged something - perhaps hadn't been able to adapt to the new length of her weapon fast enough due to her exhausted sake. Whatever the case she'd tried to block the swing, but ultimately failed, Yamato's blade cleaving right through her forearm, cutting through to the bone and making it so only a few strings of tendon and some skin connected her arm to the rest of her body.
And yet, despite all these grievous injuries, she'd growled out at Sorun. Using the last of the feeling she had in her hand to flick the half-sword up in the air, catching it in her teeth. Eyes wide and near-frantic, doing everything she could to power through all that pain and blood loss as she sprinted right at Sorun. Swinging her head around wildly in an vain, desperate attempt to just catch him even once with the blade being held in her mouth.
Schwing!
Sorun was having none of it. He'd sidestepped her entirely and swung out with Yamato, ending with his arm being fully extended to his side with the sword tightly gripped in his hand. Jian had stagged a bit before coming to a full stop. The half-sword slowly slipping from her mouth before clattering to the floor at her feet. A strangled, gasping sort of noise left her as her feet stumbled, slowly turning towards Sorun.
"Y-you..." She tried to say, voice coming out as labored with a slight gurgle to it. The black and white fur on her neck began to become stained in red from the blood flowing from the red line slowly becoming more and more prominent on her throat. "You... monster..."
She fell down to her knees, body growing still. Her head dropped down seconds later, bouncing off the ground a few times before rolling away, gouts of blood spurting up from the open neck sitting before Sorun.
"You were a real one. Right up to the end." The breathing coming out of Sorun was slightly heightened. Not from exhaustion; he barely felt the smallest-bit winded, at least so far with all this energy coursing through him. No, this had been brought on from excitement. Thrill. She'd been fun, more so than anyone else in this place. That feeling of blood rushing and his head being completely focused in on that fight had felt near-euphoric to him. "I regret never asking your name. I'll remember you for a long time yet."
Sighing out, he lowered his arm back to the side, expression dimming somewhat as he stared at the kneeling, headless, and armless corpse. He was almost sad to see her gone, if only because it meant he'd never fight her again. But he pushed those feelings away, wanting to focus on the task at hand. That throne room was still back there. He still had to check if Snively and Regina were in there and murder everything in there that was breathing.
"..." Sorun hummed out, tilting his head a bit downwards when he saw Jian's severed arm lying on the ground. He walked towards it, bending down to pick it up. Without hesitation he held it above his head, letting the blood inside drip into his open mouth. He nearly shuddered from the sharp jolt he felt go through his whole body - felt so much energy seeping into him that he felt more awake now than he ever had in his life. Feeling the dark hide and scales on his arm spread up, past his elbow and shoulder and halfway across his right pectoral.
Yeah. This was enough. He could win handedly with this, easy.
"That's it..." He tossed the arm over his shoulder, completely discarding it. Turning towards the doors leading to the throne room, expression falling flat. Still all this to go through, and he doubted any of the ones going forward would be like the one back there. Never seemed to end, any of this...
Zero time was wasted as Sorun swung the sword out in front of him. Dozens of slashes appearing on the doorway, cutting right through to the other side. Without further delay he walked up to it, kicking his foot out to break down that ruined doorway. Skulking into the throne room beyond, sword scraping along the ground behind him.
There were dozens of voices screaming and crying out seconds later. Followed by the sound of wet cutting noises and splashes of blood flying out from the entranceway Sorun had cut open.
A/N- So yeah, there's a lot of terms and concepts relating to things in Yurashia that'll probably be lost on people who never read the comics. To that I say that Sorun's in the exact same boat as you are and at this point he's never going to go out of his way to learn what any of this even means since he's beyond caring at this point, so I try to justify it saying it's just framing the story primarily through Sorun's point of view.
More than that all the Yurashia stuff is such an infinitesimally small part of this story that I don't really feely like going out of my way to spend a lot of time extrapolating those particular details. We'll get broad strokes and not much else because it just really doesn't matter all that much.