The last breath was supposed to be quiet. Eneko Navarro could hear the flatline before the sound technicians on the floor below could even register it. A low, persistent hum, like a dying locust, that resonated not in his ears, but in the brittle cage of his ribs. His lungs, ravaged by a cancer named ‘The Silencer’ by the doctors who’d given up, felt less like organs and more like petrified sponges. He was ready. Or, as ready as anyone could be when the exit sign was a gaping maw of nothingness.
His hand, emaciated and cool, was clasped tight in his sister Maite’s. Her fingers were warm, a stark contrast to his own rapidly chilling flesh. Her shoulders shook, a violent tremor that resonated through their joined hands. A wet sniffle, then another. Maite, bless her overly optimistic heart, was always too much. Too much hope, too much light, too much *life* for a world that had decided to claw itself apart and then spit out his lungs.
“It’s okay, Maite,” he rasped, his voice a dry whisper that felt like sand scraping against his throat. He’d rehearsed this. A final, comforting lie. “No more pain. No more… pills.”
“N-no! Don’t say that, K-Koko!” Her voice, usually a bright bell, was a choked sob. Her grip tightened, a desperate anchor. “The doctors… they’ll find something! They always do!”
He wanted to scoff. The staff at the compound, now a fortified ruin barely holding back the tide of whatever monstrosities puked out of the fractal gates, had been busy with actual triage emergencies for weeks. A dying man with an incurable lung disease was a luxury they couldn’t afford. He was just a bed warmer, waiting for the inevitable. The monitors beside his bed chose that moment to agree, their screens flickering, then resolving into a steady, unbroken line of green. The hum stopped. Silence.
He watched the line, a strange peace settling over him. This was it. The long, agonizing wait, the slow decay, the brutal knowledge of his own expiration date – all of it was finally over. He closed his eyes, picturing Maite’s face, vibrant and full of life, untainted by the monsters that now roamed the streets of San Telmo.
Then the world exploded. Not subtly, not metaphorically. The window to his left, reinforced with thick duraplast, *shattered*. A cacophony of screeching glass and twisting metal ripped through the sterile silence, followed by a sound like a wet sack of bones hitting the floor. Eneko’s eyes snapped open. A jagged, crystalline gate, pulsating with sickly violet light, now filled the gaping hole where the window had been. And through it, tumbling onto the pristine white tiles, was something like an imp made of moss and razor blades.
The creature, no taller than a child but all vicious angles and needle-sharp teeth, shrieked. It bypassed Eneko, launching as a green blur of malice at Nurse Ainhoa as she stepped in to check his vitals. Her cry cut short as the beast's talons raked her forearm, ripping fabric and flesh before she bounced off the wall.
Fury, hot and immediate, surged through Eneko. Not at the monster, not at the sudden, violent intrusion. But at the *audacity*. His death. His one, singular, peaceful moment. Ruined. By a glorified swamp rat.
[ERROR: Subject mortality imminent. Threat detected. IMMEDIATE ACTION REQUIRED. Eliminate Hostiles. Gain Advantage. Squish the Bugs.]
A shimmering, insectoid prompt materialized directly in front of his eyes, an overlay of iridescent chitin and twitching antennae. The text was stark, glowing crimson. He blinked. The monitors, just a moment ago flatlining, pulsed back to life, their screens now displaying vital signs that were, impossibly, *stronger* than they’d been in years. His lungs, just moments ago concrete, drew in a deep, shuddering breath. It didn’t burn. It felt… clean.
“What…?” Maite gasped, her breath catching as she stared at the intruder and then at Eneko, whose pallor had darkened into a furious crimson.
“This little… *thing*,” Eneko snarled, pushing himself up. The IV drip, still attached to his arm, pulled taut. He ripped it free with a snarl. The clear tubing coiled in his hand. “You ruined it. My one good thing.”
The moss-fiend turned its head toward Eneko, snarling as it lunged. Eneko met it halfway. His fingers looped the clear line around its throat, yanking with every scrap of his newly returned leverage.
[KILL CONFIRMED! Minor Xylo-Sapper eliminated. First Blood Bonus applied. Necrotic Linkage unlocked. Congratulations, Bug Squasher.]
The prompt buzzed, a triumphant, almost mocking, *zzzzzzt* sound. The imp thrashed, claws shredding Eneko’s forearms, but his grip stayed locked. He twisted, tightened, and threw his weight back until vertebrae crunched beneath the coil. The runt went limp, staring blankly at the acoustic ceiling tiles.
Maite screamed, pressing against the bed rail. Nurse Ainhoa clamped both hands over her bleeding forearm, pale and trembling against the drywall. Eneko didn’t care. He was too busy processing the cold, hard anger, and the weird, throbbing energy now coalescing in his hands.
[NECROTIC LINKAGE: Unused Essence detected. Suggested Action: Manifest Construct. Options: Medical Skeletal Frame, Xylo-Sapper Carcass.]
Eneko glared at the anatomical dummy standing on casters in the corner. Then down at the dead pest. An idea fueled by pure, unadulterated irritation snapped into focus.
“This is what you get,” he muttered. He drove his palm into the anatomical stand. Sickly green energy surged through the synthetic ribs, rattling the wire joints. Snatching the dead pest by its dripping moss pelt, he slammed the carcass against the rattling ribs.
[SPLICING SUCCESS! Construct: Patella. Affiliation: Undead. Rank: Fused Grotesque. Special Abomination: Bone-Clawed Frenzy. Additional Mutation Pending. Get to Squashing!]
The display rig buckled and screamed. Gnarled, moss-stained marrow erupted through the synthetic mold, bursting out in jagged plates. Razor-sharp talons burst from the wire fingers. The cranium elongated into the imp's split mandibles, sealing into a plated maw. It twitched, then stood, a hideous amalgamation of bone and chitin, its newly formed eyes glowing with an eager, malevolent green light. It was awful. It was perfect.
“Patella,” Eneko declared, a manic bark tearing from his throat. The newly formed monstrosity clicked its jaws, a sound of grinding bone.
[CRITICAL THREAT DETECTED. Multi-Dimensional Incursion. Prepare for Extreme Violence. Current Objective: Survive.]
The ward masonry, already groaning under previous breaches, shuddered. A deafening roar ripped through the air, vibrating Eneko’s bones. Beyond the shattered window, beyond the newly formed gate, the entire cityscape of San Telmo was bathed in an unnatural, violet glow. The outer walls of the Hospital Citadel, designed to withstand siege, buckled. Then, with a deafening crack of sheared rebar, the outer wall imploded. Through the dust and debris, a colossal, crystalline brute, easily thirty feet tall and trailing an army of similar, albeit smaller, monstrosities, marched unimpeded, its destination clearly the heart of the city, its gaze fixed on the smoking ruins of the Hospital Citadel.