~Laurent
My hand was in my pocket, the world narrowed to two breathing monsters and the place between us. I slid my hand out and let Gorath’s Chainfang materialise, the abyssal long sword unfurling from nothing into black metal veined with red. It didn’t snap into my grip; it grew there.
I walked toward them, one hand still in my pocket, the other holding the sword out like an invitation. The blade caught the dappled light and drank it.
They watched me. The nearer behemoth curled its lip; the farther one hammered a foot and churned the soil into mud. Their breaths came out like small storms. Their claws left scars on the trunk of the trees as they shifted. I could feel the forest holding its breath with me.
“Playtime,” I murmured, and then I split myself.
Blood Clone rippled from my c
