Pokemon Mystery Dungeon: Hands of Creation

Chapter 104 - Gateways

It was only with quick thinking that Nevren had survived the first Shadow Blast. Staring at the beam was like going blind. What in the world was he supposed to do against an attack that literally incinerated the reinforced concrete ceiling?! Nevren's own thoughts had transitioned from befuddlement to terrified incredulity. There was a hole in the ceiling meant to take the Beammaker's blasts. Its head was large and its neck even longer, with a wide frame and a draconic face. Even with its dark colorings and miasma, something about it was familiar...

Was this Palkia?

"Father?" someone called from the far end of the chamber. "What's going—AAAH!"

"Keep the door closed!" Nevren called in as casual a tone as he could muster. He considered using a mutant or two as a decoy to get away, but not only was that impractical in terms of how far they were, but he wouldn't hear the end of it from Eon if they ever recovered him. Along with that, they weren't going to the Reincarnation Machine anymore. They might actually die, or worse.

What to do next? If he stayed there, he would surely die, which would be troublesome. He could escape, seal this thing inside, and that would at least buy some time to evacuate. Yes, short term, he would do that. Better plan later.

Nevren sprinted away, kicking off of psionically conjured platforms to give him an even greater stride. It was like surfing, only with a lot more death nearby.

With a sudden pivot, Nevren avoided a predicted Shadow Blast that had hit where he was going only a second prior, and then he kicked off the ground to avoid the blast's turning radius. The blast itself was several times his height; one wrong read and he might not be able to dodge in time.

The draconic Titan couldn't raise its head fast enough, and its mobility was limited by the portal it was dangling out of. Another advantage for Nevren. With its arms occupied, it could only attack with its head.

Nevren readied his Revisor in case things went south. He didn't want to know how those Shadowy attacks would feel. They were familiar, yet so much worse than that time in the swamp where Anam had been discovered. And therefore, Nevren knew that this was a more concentrated evil than whatever had been filtered through Anam's purity.

Why did the air taste of rot?

Another blast forced Nevren to swerve out of the way for a third time and he tried to steady his heart. His breaths were becoming ragged. Panting, he looked down and saw a drop of crimson land on the otherwise pristine floor.

In disbelief, he rubbed the back of his palm against his mouth—his entire hand had turned red.

The very air around that thing was corrosive. The atmosphere around those blasts stripped away at his insides.

Picking up the pace, Nevren dodged another blast and tried to avoid the black haze it left behind, assuming that would only accelerate his death.

The door was closer. Logically, this was true. Why, then, did it feel so far away? He had to hurry. A little more. Now, a nap. That sounded wonderful. However, he knew that, right now, the need to sleep was only death's call, and he was far too busy to answer.

His psionics were weak. Once solid platforms for boosting his stride had become jellylike in texture, his feet sinking into his own weakened force. His heel brushed against the ground. Accelerated levitation would be even more work, and he could barely concentrate as it was. Could he revise this moment and find a better path? Perhaps. But it was so tiring. He'd already gone nearly optimally with those blasts in the way.

Those blasts had become a lot less frequent. He could hear again, aside from the dull ringing that accented everything else in his senses. Daring to look back, Nevren realized that the thing had company... only it seemed they were feuding with one another—much smaller, emerging from the portal behind the behemoth.