Lana's emerald eyes followed Vlad's fixed gaze, her brow furrowing with confusion. The immediate threat was the enraged, spiky mutant—but Vlad's attention was elsewhere.
Then she saw it.
High above, silhouetted against the blood-red sky, circled a massive, bird-like shape. The same creature that had hunted them the day before—or another just like it. Its vast wings beat with a slow, powerful rhythm. Even from this distance, a sense of predatory power radiated from it.
It loomed above—a silent, watchful presence. A constant reminder that the horrors of the Bentree Forest stretched far beyond the slithering things below.
Then, with a guttural snarl, the mutant finally tore its claws free from the groaning branch. Its green eyes—now burning with renewed fury, snapped back to Vlad. It roared, a deafening sound that echoed through the leaves, and lunged again.
They fought back-to-back, a desperate dance of steel, fists and gunfire against overwhelming aggression. Lana's longsword flashed, deflecting savage claw strikes.
But it was futile.
Their attacks chipped the monster's flesh armor in places, but nothing more. It was too strong, too fast—and they were burning through strength and stamina they couldn't afford to waste.
Lana spoke between jagged breaths:
"Target its joints. Armor that thick can't cover moving parts—not if it wants to be that fast."
Vlad shifted his focus, tracking the mutant's movements more carefully. Lana was right—its joints were exposed. Gaps in the armor, small but real.
A weakness.
Despite the chaos of their close-quarters battle, they had a course of action that required coordination and focus.
But above them, the looming presence of a colossal bird-like creature cast a long shadow through the canopy like a living omen.
Every rustle of the crimson seemed louder, each whisper a reminder of the predator watching from above. Its silent presence pressed down on them, a suffocating weight that made their desperate fight feel even more hopeless.
Suddenly, the spiky mutant feinted an attack on Lana, a deceptive flicker before it spun with unsettling speed. Vlad reacted instantly, shifting away, but his escape snagged on a gruesome detail: the severed arm, now a macabre anchor, trapped his ankle beneath the mutant's heavy step.
Crap!
Its powerful arm slammed into Vlad's chest. He blocked but the force of the blow knocked out the air from his lungs, and he crashed onto his back on the rough bark—now only the severed wrist, still stubbornly attached, flopped against him. A grim reminder of the rest of the limb crushed beneath the spiked creature's leg.
Gasping for breath, Vlad lay stunned—until a sudden gust tore through the upper canopy. The crimson leaves around them erupted in a flurry. For a split second, their undersides caught the light flashing into view as they swayed violently.
And in that fleeting glimpse of the leaves, something clicked in Vlad's mind. A sudden, chilling clarity cut through the pain.
His eyes locked on a colossal severed branch high above them. It wasn't broken by age or storm—the severance was impossibly clean and precise as if an immense, unseen blade with unimaginable sharpness sliced through warm butter. It hung precariously, suspended by thick, vines that groaned with its weight.
An idea, desperate but potentially viable, sparked in his mind. A way to end this immediate threat.
If we can get it directly beneath, maybe those vines can be cut… or break.
"Lana!" he gasped, his voice strained. "Up there!"
Lana, her sword a blur of motion against the mutant's relentless assault, glanced upwards, her emerald eyes searching where he pointed.
"What?" she yelled over the mutant's furious roars.
The leaves blocked her view. She couldn't see the branch from her perspective.
Vlad licked his lips—a realization dawned, it had to be his own desperate gamble. He kept his voice low, and said in an urgent tone:
"Just keep it busy. Keep it under... just keep it there."
The mutant was already relatively close to the drop point of the branch above. He just needed to be sure. They had one chance at it, and he wasn't going to waste it.
For a beat, she hesitated—but only a beat. Her sword curved in vicious arcs, holding the monster in place. Beneath the waiting weight above.
It was—in a way good she didn't know the plan. If she did, she might unconsciously shift her stance—change her rhythm—and the creature could sense it.
She didn't need the details… she could just sense his intent, right?
She saw the urgency in his eyes and nodded once, grim and wordless. Her longsword became a whirlwind, flashing steel against claw and fury, her every move focused on keeping the monster exactly where it needed to be.
The creature shrieked, even more enraged. An opening flashed—a momentary lapse in its frantic assault—and Lana seized it with agile precision. Her blade, a honed whisper of steel, plunged deep into the unarmored flesh of its leg, severing it with brutal finality.
A guttural screech tore from the mutant as it plummeted. Yet, with surprising tenacity, its free hand clawed desperately into the rough bark, halting its fall and precariously maintaining its balance.
Lana didn't waste a heartbeat and pressed her advantage. Her sword arced towards the mutant's remaining leg.
But the mutant was smart. It anticipated her move. One of its clawed hands shot out, shielding the vulnerable flesh. Lana's blade struck the hardened forearm with a jarring clang, the steel bounced back.
A vicious swipe of claws whistled through the air where her torso had been. She recoiled back, dodging in the nick of time.
One of its legs got severed, and an arm compromised, trying to maintain balance. The mutant's once terrifying agility and speed were noticeably diminished.
Vlad, meanwhile, used the brief seconds the mutant's attention was solely on Lana to subtly shift his position. He edged closer to them and the dangling branch's potential impact zone.
His mind raced. The QC calculated the angles, distance, timing. He needed to know where the branch would drop exactly so they could bring the mutant under it.
The severed wrist on his ankle was a constant hindrance, but adrenaline fueled his movements.
He noticed a particularly big cluster of vines, thick and intertwined, bearing the majority of the branch's immense weight.
That's it.
But he moved too close.
The enraged mutant, its senses sharpened by the relentless combat, suddenly jerked its head toward him. Its glowing green eyes locked onto Vlad, narrowing with instinctual fury. In a heartbeat, its focus shifted from Lana's flashing blade to the vulnerable figure creeping close.
With a guttural roar, it abandoned its assault on Lana and lunged towards Vlad.
He scrambled back, but the sudden shift in the mutant's aggression ruined his carefully orchestrated plan. The creature went off course, it moved further away dangling branch—his trap unraveling in an instant.
"Damn it!" Vlad cursed under his breath the word laced with self-belittlement.
He'd gotten impatient and pushed too far, too fast—and now his desperate gamble had backfired spectacularly.
The mutant was coming for him.
The severed arm still tangled around his leg and dragged at him like a curse, each step clumsy and slow. The moss-slick bark offered little grip, turning every movement into a struggle. He was exposed—vulnerable—and painfully aware of it.
A loud screech tore through the canopy.
Vlad didn't need to look up. He could feel the presence descending—the massive bird creature had drawn closer.
Everything seemed to fall apart at the same moment.
Because of his incompetence.
"Damn it all!"