Omnium's Fables

Omnium 21280:Mathias

Michael woke up with a choked scream, his heart hammering against his ribs. The house was enveloped in an unnatural silence, as if the world was holding its breath.

"Mom?" he called, but only the echo answered. He found Mathias standing in the shadows, his face ravaged by terror, his eyes red and swollen with tears. "She went into the forest," he said, his voice broken. "I sensed her, Michael. Her Imprint... something is wrong, something is sick."

There was no time to think, no time for questions. They ran outside, the Mandrina fog enveloping them like a violet shroud. The Ventra forest was a labyrinth of shadows, the Mandrina trees bending over them like silent sentinels, their leaves faintly glowing under the moonlight. The ground was damp, the air thick with the smell of moss and something more acrid, like corrupted flesh. "Wait for me, big brother!! Why are you running so suddenly?!" Michael shouted, stumbling over a root as he chased Mathias.

"Follow me, Michael! I think I sensed something up ahead," Mathias replied, his voice strained, almost suffocated by the weight of what he felt.

They struggled forward, the fog closing in around them like a living curtain, drowning out every sound except their labored breathing. Mathias stopped every so often, eyes closed, searching for fragments of his mother's Imprint, but each step seemed to drag them deeper into a nightmare. Then, a misstep. Mathias stumbled, falling to his knees. Michael screamed, the sound lost in the haze. In front of them, bodies of Papacy soldiers lay scattered like broken dolls, their white armor stained crimson, deep gashes revealing shattered bones and exposed organs. The air was heavy with death, an odor that burned their nostrils.

But that wasn't all. A shadow moved among the trees, slow, immense. An Osiris Giant emerged from the fog, a creature as tall as a tower, its body covered in rotten bark and dry shrubs that hung like putrefied flesh. In his father's books, Michael had read about them: protectors of the planet, ancient spirits. But this was an abomination, its empty eyes glowing with a sick luminescence, the sickening odor engulfing them like a curse. It stretched an arm toward Mathias, its wooden fingers creaking. Michael, paralyzed, felt an Imprint for the first time, weak but vibrating with fear, like a silent lament.

A flash tore through the fog, blinding. The Giant emitted a roar that shook the ground, its body twisting, the bark splitting as if something unnatural was trying to emerge. A clean strike broke it in two, the upper half crashing down with a thud, splattering black sap that reeked of death. Three figures emerged: Giovanni, immense with his cerulean hair; Paolo, young and cold; and Marco, an older Meynesian, with grey hair and white armor that seemed to absorb the light. Marco, the most powerful Evangelist of the Papacy.

Michael cried out in relief, his heart singing at the sight of his heroes. But Mathias didn't move, his eyes fixed on them, his face rigid with a terror Michael didn't understand. "Hey, Paolo! How is it possible that these children are still well?" said Giovanni, his voice echoing like thunder.

"It's truly strange. Even if they somehow avoided the water with a well connected to another source, they could never survive the Cursed Light," Paolo replied, scrutinizing them with eyes that seemed to dig into their souls.

"What do we do with these two, Marco?" he continued, addressing the third.

Marco, distant, observed them with a grim expression, as if carrying an invisible weight. "What are you doing here in the forest?" he asked, his voice hard as metal.

"Our mother disappeared. We followed her Imprint, but we ended up getting lost," Michael replied, his voice trembling but full of hope.

Mathias nodded, confirming. "And so you are able to perceive the Imprint? Truly impressive for two children your age. After all, Ezralians have always developed excellent abilities!" said Giovanni, giving Mathias a pat that made him stagger.

"A... actually, only I am capable of it, and not very well, actually. That's why we got lost," Mathias stammered, his voice uncertain.

"Go home immediately! Even if you can perceive the Imprint, the forest is still too dangerous a place for two youngsters," Marco ordered, his tone unyielding.

"But didn't you hear them, Marco? They got lost! How are they supposed to get home alone, huh? And besides, I saw an Ezralian woman heading in the direction of our camp. Who knows, maybe she's the mother," Giovanni retorted, seeking Paolo's approval with a smile.

"Exactly, boss. Why don't we take them with us? The citizens of Louis told us that many people are disappearing these days. I wouldn't want something to happen to these two boys too," Paolo said, his gaze fixed on the brothers, cold and questioning.

Michael cheered, his heart pounding with the excitement of following his idols. But Mathias remained rigid, his eyes full of a terror that seemed to grow with every step. They followed the Evangelists along the river, its waters reflecting the moon in broken fragments. An acrid, increasingly strong odor stung their nostrils. "What is that nauseating smell coming from the water, in your opinion?" Michael asked in a low voice, approaching Mathias.

Mathias didn't answer, his face contorted. "Hey, Mathias! Are you listening to me? You've been strange since before," Michael insisted, shaking him.

"M... Michael..." Mathias stammered, his voice choked, as if stifling a scream.

"What is it? Were you so scared by the Giant earlier that you can't speak anymore?" Michael joked, trying to lighten the atmosphere.

"R... run..." Mathias began, but Giovanni interrupted him. "Come on, boys! We've finally arrived!" he said, his voice overpowering everything.

The camp opened up before them like a wound in the heart of the forest. Huge green Mechs, with wide-open mouths that looked like living jaws, poured a black, viscous liquid into the river, each drop hissing on contact with the water, releasing a stench of burnt flesh and putrefaction. Figures moved in the fog, slow, unnatural, their familiar clothes—those of the inhabitants of Louis—stained with dirt and blood. A sick, distorted Imprint struck the brothers like a wave, a weight that pinned their legs to the ground, suffocating their breath. It was pure terror, a horror they had never known, as if the universe itself had bent into a wrong shape. Marco turned toward the other two Evangelists. "Is this also his order?!" he yelled, his voice charged with anger and despair. "When the day comes when I am judged for this, I hope, in my heart, that you two, just like me, will pay the steep price."

"Judged?! Do you realize what you're saying?! Don't you hear it too, Marco? That voice. That goddamn voice!! We must do it! It's his order! But also our desire. Don't you feel it too, inside you? The desire to do it!!" Paolo screamed in response, his face transformed by a feverish euphoria, his eyes shining with an unnatural light.

Marco turned away, his face stone. "Hurry up," he said, his voice cold as the vacuum of space, before entering a tent, leaving them alone.

Giovanni advanced toward the brothers, a smile that didn't reach his eyes. Paolo drew his sword, the blade emitting a blinding glare, dissolving some of the Mandrina fog. The light revealed the horror: the inhabitants of Louis, transformed into monsters. Their skin was scaly, like that of sick reptiles, their mouths stretched into a fanged grin, the jagged teeth glinting under the light. They moved with slow, clumsy jerks, like puppets whose strings had been cut and poorly reattached. Among them, two figures broke Michael and Mathias's hearts: Mariah and Sophie, their features distorted, their eyes empty of all trace of humanity, their black wings reduced to shreds of pulsating flesh.

Michael wanted to scream, to plead, but the Evangelists' Imprint paralyzed him, a poison that constricted his throat, immobilizing every muscle. "What's wrong, boys?! Has the cat got your tongue?" said Giovanni, pushing them forward with a laugh that sounded wrong, like a distorted echo.

"It's our Imprint. Although it's impressive that they can perceive it, they remain too small and weak to bear it," Paolo said, beckoning Mariah and Sophie with a gesture. "Well, that will make this easier."

Paolo lowered his sword, the glare fading like a signal. The two women lunged at Mathias with inhuman speed, their guttural screams tearing the air, a sound that belonged to nothing alive. Mariah, or what remained of her, grabbed Mathias by the shoulders, sharp claws digging into his flesh, eliciting a choked cry. Sophie struck him in the chest, an impact that sent him flying backward, his body bending unnaturally. Mathias hit the back of his head against a rock, the sound of his skull cracking like a dry branch, an explosion of blood spreading beneath him, dark and thick, mixing with the earth. The two creatures didn't stop. Their mouths opened wide, fangs sinking into Mathias's chest and arms, tearing flesh and tendons with blind fury. Blood splattered in irregular arcs, staining the ground and their deformed faces, while animalistic noises mixed with the wet sound of shattering bones. Mathias didn't move anymore, his body reduced to an unrecognizable mass, his black wings broken like the wings of a crushed insect. Michael, immobilized, watched, his eyes full of tears he couldn't shed, his mind screaming what his body could not: "Please, stop! It's us! Don't you recognize us, Mom?"

Mathias was no more. Only a void, a horror that swallowed all hope. Michael clung to a lie, a desperate thought: maybe he died instantly, maybe he didn't suffer. But the truth was there, in the mutilated remains of his brother, in the blood soaking the earth, in the creatures that had once been his mother and his aunt, now lost in a nameless madness.