Apocalypse: Generic System, Macronomicon [e book reader android txt] 📗

electricity flowed up it’s back as it ate.

If the other kruskers looked like pygmy rhinos, this thing looked like a rhino-rhino.

Like, walking tank that could flip a truck on its side, kind of rhino. The only difference was the shape of the face around the horn was flatter, wider, and more evil looking.

“Hey, is that bush glowing for you?” Jeb whispered, pointing at the object of the krusker’s desire.

Jess glanced back at him with a frown.

“No.”

Huh. Maybe there’s something Myst-y about that plant.

“Alright, begin operation Silent But Deadly,” Jeb whispered, using Myst to pull himself up into the branches of the nearby tree without making a sound. He crouched in the crook of the branch and got himself comfortable.

The assassin climbed up beside him, equally silently, and swift as a spider.

“You’re not naming any more operations,” She whispered, before leaping to the next branch.

We’ll see about that, Jeb thought, pulling his first spear out while they surrounded the hapless animal.

***Montero, lord of the Krusker range***

Montero was a simple Krusker. Good food, good mating, and extreme aggression towards anything that could possibly be a threat had served him well his entire life.

He didn’t even know his name. It wasn’t something he called himself, but rather the collective name the spirits of the forest, and awed natives of Pharos used to refer to the Krusker.

Glow-root, yummy. Belly full.

FILL BELLY MORE.

The satisfying crunch of the glow-root was music to the Krusker lord’s ears. He’d long since pushed any rivals out of his territory, and all sows were his to mount.

Rattle!

Montero’s head jerked up, scanning the woods.

There!

His little Krusker brain went through the order of operations it applied to everything in a matter of microseconds.

Eat? Moving, so maybe after kill.

Fuck? No. Not Sow.

Kill? KILL!

KIIIILLLL!

The bush continued shaking as Montero began charging, his burny-thingy bursting with power, sending lightning crashing across his entire body, strengthening his bristly skin and making his muscles swell.

Ever since the day he’d accidentally formed the Myst Core, he’d had an edge over the other kruskers, although he didn’t know enough to attribute it to the crackling energy inside him, nor did he really know what it was, or how to use it, exactly. He just knew that he squeezed it when he charged, just like he squeezed all his other muscles, and it made things die.

It was the embodiment of power for him. He still remembered witnessing a bolt of lightning strike a massive oak to this day, forming his ideal of power.

“EEEE!” Montero let out a ferocious squeal and charged the interloper shaking the bush, aiming to strike like lightning!

White lightning arced out a fraction of a second ahead of him and exploded the bush, followed by his magnificent horn, and then his magnificent hooves as he trampled the bush and whatever it had been hiding.

Pain? Pain!

There was a splinter of some kind in Montero’s chest, grating against his tough bones.

Montero couldn’t quite see it, so he did what he always did when something attacked him from a point he couldn’t see:

He charged some more, squeezing the burny-thingy as hard as he could.

***Jeb***

Jesus, it’s a miracle this thing hasn’t killed itself already.

Jeb didn’t voice his disbelief out loud though. The damn thing weighed as much as a tank, and the unfortunate tree beside the bush was completely demolished as it began charging everything.

The broken spear dangling from its chest was the only casualty of their opening move.

Jeb had floated his first spear over to the opposite side of the board, along with two more in other positions, before he’d made it start shaking the bush violently.

The krusker hadn’t even bothered to pause to identify the threat, it just charged right into the spear hidden in the bush, earning itself a deep stab wound in its chest.

That’s how a human hunts, dickwad.

Jeb reached out with his Myst and took control of one of the spears he’d secreted in another bush.

He started shaking it.

The Krusker squealed in surprise, its head jerking up again, locking eyes on the bush before committing to a wholehearted charge.

It got another blade in the chest for its efforts. Now there were two spearheads dangling from the boss-monster’s chest, the flow of blood roughly doubled.

It’s so much easier when I don’t have to hold the spear my own damn self, Jeb thought, thinking back on how stupid he’d been to try and stop even a small one from charging with just a spear.

If I had just known how to use Myst- Jeb shook his head. Intrusive self-recriminating thoughts about the loss of his foot were to be expected. He’d been on the wrong side of the couch long enough to know what to expect.

If I’d known about the subprime lending crisis, I’d be a millionaire instead of a retired grunt. Doesn’t matter.

He reached out and started shaking spear number three.

Shaka, shaka, shaka!

The Krusker’s head popped up again, and it snorted, pawing the ground like it was gonna charge again, but then…it didn’t.

Instead, it snorted again, then started snuffling, lifting its head higher as it sniffed the air.

Ah, crap.

It turned away from where Jeb was shaking the bush, following its nose in Jeb’s direction.

The two of them locked eyes. The krusker lord and the vet shared a special moment.

“Yeah, what are you gonna do about it? I’m a smart monkey in my goddamn tree!” Jeb said, flipping the bastard off.

“EEEEE!”

The Krusker charged him, lighting coating its body, causing its wounds to cauterize as the spearheads were flung free.

Damn.

Jeb had a choice here. Go for even more damage, or run away.

Let’s go for the biscuits.

Rather than grabbing onto his weapon and levitating himself away like a witch on