Judgement Blood: A Celestial's Vendetta

Sweat.

Sweat was irritating, inconvenient and invited every Goddamn thing in the forest to cling to his body. Oh, and the hygiene aspect too, dear god!

Insects. They-

-No! If he were going to list it all, it would take far too long, and the Twentieth would also become triumphant stew.

'Focus!'

Ilyas was squatting inside a large bush in an especially thick thicket, still and waiting. In other circumstances, he would feel quite excited to see himself looking like a hunter preparing to spring on his prey, but oh boy...

This was no prey.

A sudden strong gust of wind rustled the gigantic trees above, raining down leaves and twigs, and scaring away the strange and ghastly birds that roamed above.

Only it wasn't the wind.

It was his quarry. 

'Is it even right to say that?!'

He couldn't see it yet, but he, oh, he heard it!

The foreboding cracking of branches followed by a defeating-

Thud!

'A whole tree?! The ape knocked down a whole Goddamn tree?!'

Something orange briefly showed itself from afar, shrouded by colossal shafts and thick shrubbery. But it wasn't hard to discern its size, and goodness...

Ilyas blanched, eyes widening as they peered into the distance. He knew it would be massive, but... but-

'Not... not that massive..."

He was petrified.

Slowly and ominously, the beast cracked and thundered closer, moving erratically, devastating the forest with menacing ease.

Crack! THUD!

Crack! THUD!

Crack!

Crack!

Crack! THUD!

And the closer it got, the more rusty orange he glimpst. 

Then, eventually, he finally gasped at its full might.

'Oh... Oh dear... Oh yeah, it's ugly. Am I dead? I'm dead. I have to be.'

Ilyas's jaw hung open as he gawked at the horrifying thing. His mask was truly a friend for always hiding his embarrassing expressions behind that indifferent gaze.

The first thing that chilled his soul was the eyes, looking like two hollow points in a disc-like, ugly face. A bulging dome-like muzzle hid hideous and deadly teeth behind flabby lips. Other than its dark, prickly face, its whole hunched and beastial body was shrouded under a rag of rusty-orange fur, smeared with blood and other bodily substances. 

Across its chest were disturbingly large claw marks dripping blood. Ilyas didn't dare ponder their origin.

Ilyas felt like he was in the presence of a real Goddamn mammoth, but one with intelligence in its unnerving eyes.

'Is it? Is it intelligent?' Ilyas thought dreadfully. 

It was still tens of meters away, but its approach was so fast and domineering that it brought his innards to chaos with utmost ease. 

This was it.

This was the plan.

Ilyas took a few fast breaths, then a big one. He had one chance. Failure meant death. No time for fear. No time for stalling. Let the plan unfold, and let his life go on.

Ilyas clenched his fist until it whitened, killing the tremble; then he clenched his jaw until his teeth threatened to break.

'Let's show'em, Dad.'

He rose from his position and stepped out of the thicket. 

'HoooooHHHHH-' 

A deep rumbling sound rolled out of the approaching beast the instant it laid its unpleasantly beady eyes on him. 

'At least now we know it's not intelligent.'

It fastened its approach, and Ilyas finally felt his cue... The cue was mostly a matter of his instincts, but a bit of formality was comforting.

The route that Cenric and Alexander planned was etched into his mind, and all he had to do was not do anything stupid, like stumble or let fear paralyse him. 

'Good. Good enough. I can manage... hopefully.'

Ilyas wheeled, then ran in the opposite direction.

He ran like his life depended on it, because it did.

He ran like he had never been wounded in the last few days.

He ran like he didn't have a thousand foreboding thoughts spiralling out of control in his battered mind. 

Ilyas leapt, dashed, ducked and most importantly, he Goddamn ran!

He didn't have a choice. His body had no choice. If the useless, frail thing wanted to continue wandering this damn planet, it had to work with his plan. 

It could protest and complain later, but now, it served the plan. The plan that would hopefully save their lives.

But he wasn't fast enough to outrun the colossal beast. Of course, he wouldn't be! Ilyas knew that he wouldn't. He knew more than anybody!

But that was fine. 

As long as it followed, Ilyas was the orchestrator, and every Goddamn thing, including his body, had to play.

Eventually, Ilyas was between two dooms: the GranOrangutan and the Salivitian encampment. 

He was dashing towards one, taking the other with him. 

The undergrowth rustled.

The branches resisted and snapped. 

His feet bashed it all and exited into a clearing where a few Salivitians were lined up for human meat stew.

The soldiers flinched and jerked with utter confusion and bafflement at what had just spawned out of the thicket.

They gaped at him, empty bowls in hand, jaws hanging open.

It took them a few moments to realise Ilyas wasn't one of them, and so...

Some slowly reached for their primitive revolvers, while some tended to the tiny claws protruding on their sashes. Probably Imitators.

He should probably get out of here as soon as possible.

He really should. 

The heavy thundering behind him was getting louder and louder.

Oh, he really should!

Ilyas smiled at them awkwardly-

But how could he forget?

He had that mask on... Ah. It made sense why they're reactions were less confident than they should've been when seeing a lost, frail enemy stumble into their camp. 

Ilyas briskly turned left and right. Which was better?

He was gathering a crowd. Barked orders reached him, commanding others to surround him or assume positions in the area, most likely expecting a wider attack.

Left or right?

Armed squads, more confident now that the initial surprise is over, filtered between the tents to wreathe him,

Left... or right?

Revolvers clicked and aimed. Muskets were loaded in haste, eating gunpowder, swallowing lead balls, then taking ramrods to the deepest end of their barrels. 

'Hmmm... can they hear it now?'

They were closing in on him. Even the musketeers were aiming at him, and at the thicket behind.

'Can they hear the beast?'

Then, finally, the rumbling approach drowned out the din of the encampment, and the Salivitian troops fell very slowly into horrified silence.

They stared.

And they stared some more.

The sound grew louder and louder, and Ilyas finally made a decision. 

"HO! HO! HHUAAAH!"

The GranOrangutan declared itself. The thicket knelt at his approach.

Then all hell broke loose.