Hydranomaly

Chapter 13: Taste Of Dino Nuggies

Their steps echoed through the dimly lit corridor, the sound of Max's boots on cold metal growing louder as they neared the end of the hallway. The air felt heavier here, almost oppressive, as if the walls themselves were pressing in, watching their every move. The two figures moved deliberately, yet with a quickness that hinted at their eagerness to reach their destination.

At the hallway's end stood a set of lone, heavy metal doors, an ominous presence that seemed to loom over them. These doors were different from the others they had passed-reinforced, thicker, as if they were guarding something far more important. Ryujin's eyes narrowed as he caught sight of the extra layer of barricading, his grip on the axe tightening instinctively. The primitive part of his brain, honed by years of survival and combat, screamed at him to stay alert. His muscles tensed, every fiber of his being ready for a fight, as he raised his weapon defensively.

Max noticed the shift in Ryujin's posture, the way his eyes darkened with the expectation of battle. It was a reaction he had grown familiar with, though it never failed to amuse him. A low, gruff chuckle escaped his lips as he placed a firm yet reassuring hand on Ryujin's shoulder. "Hey, hold your horses there, champ," Max said, his voice a mix of amusement and authority. "Those doors won't crush you. No need to get all worked up."

"They can crush me?" Ryujin shot back, misunderstanding the reassurance as a warning. His stance grew even more aggressive, muscles coiling like a spring ready to unleash its force. He leaned forward, eyes locked on the doors as if they were a living opponent. "Oh, hell nah. These things are going down!"

Before Max could react, Ryujin bolted forward, his axe raised high above his head. With a primal yell, he swung it in a wide arc, the blade whistling through the air before it slammed into the metal with a deafening *clang*. The sound reverberated through the corridor, but the doors stood resolute, barely a dent or scratch marring their surface.

Despite the lack of visible damage, the sheer force behind the swing was enough to cause Max's heart to skip a beat. These doors were designed to withstand the worst-Anomalies, intruders, you name it-and yet, Ryujin had managed to leave even the slightest mark. It was a concerning display of power, one that left Max both impressed and on edge.

"Woah, woah! What were you thinking?" Max exclaimed, his voice tinged with panic as he rushed forward. He quickly scooped Ryujin up with one arm, holding him back before any further destruction could ensue. The young man wriggled and squirmed in his grip, a ball of barely contained fury and confusion. "Stop that-"

"You said they could crush me!" Ryujin spat back, his tone defiant, eyes blazing with a wild intensity as he struggled to break free.

"I said that it wouldn't-"

Before Max could finish, Ryujin managed to slip out of his grasp, the boy's lithe body twisting and contorting until he was free. Without hesitation, he launched himself at the doors again, axe poised for another brutal strike. But before the blade could make contact, the doors slid open with a hiss, narrowly avoiding the attack. The sudden lack of resistance sent Ryujin tumbling forward, momentum carrying him headfirst into the room beyond. He landed face-first in the surprisingly soft embrace of a plush carpet, the thick fibers muffling his impact but offering no respite from the foul taste that invaded his mouth as his tongue made contact.

"What did I tell you..." Max muttered, exasperation lacing his tone as he crouched down beside the fallen young warrior. He extended a hand, offering to help Ryujin back to his feet, but before he could grasp it, another hand appeared-this one softer, more delicate. Ryujin accepted the help, pushing himself up with a groan, the familiar touch bringing a strange sense of calm over him.

"Bleghhh... that taste... fucking hate those things..." Ryujin grumbled, glaring at the doors as if they had personally wronged him. He grabbed his throat, sticking out his tongue in a futile attempt to rid himself of the lingering taste of carpet, a look of disgust twisting his features.