The steady drip of energy filling my internal reserves finally stopped. I was full. The sensation was comforting, like a fuel tank primed and ready to be burned, but the memory of my previous exhaustion and the sight of the horde below tempered any overconfidence. I leaned back for a moment on the hoverboard, mentally reviewing my meager options. A frontal assault? Suicidal. Sneak past them? Impossible with so many eyes and ears. That left only one option: drastically reduce their numbers and then... deal with the Rat King. It was a simple plan, almost stupidly audacious, but it was the only one I had. Vengeance burned within me, but it was now mixed with a cold, hard need to survive.
I stood up on the board, resolution hardening my features. "Alright," I muttered to the silent witness of my rest, "let's do this." I commanded the board to descend down the ramp, this time not with stealth, but with controlled speed. There was no turning back. Either I walked out of here victorious, or I joined the corpses below.
I reached the edge of the immense cavern. The stench of rats, blood, and decay was almost solid. Hundreds, thousands of those giant beasts swarmed below, a nauseating sea of filthy fur and glowing red eyes. The Rat King remained on his altar, imposing and vigilant.
I took a deep breath, calming the tremor in my hands. Balance, I thought, but I didn't activate total calm. I needed the fury, the instinct. First, defense.
[Positive Mantle - Activated]
A layer of white, ethereal energy enveloped me, consuming a nearly insignificant fraction of my reserves. I stepped forward, emerging from the shadows of the ramp into the dim light emanating from strange crystals embedded in the cavern's ceiling.
My appearance immediately drew attention. A chorus of sharp, furious squeals rose from the horde. The rats closest to me turned, baring their drooling fangs. I was nervous, yes, my heart pounded like a war drum, but the image of my parents, the rage simmering beneath the surface, anchored me.
Without a word, without a battle cry, I extended both hands.
[Dark Drill x2 - Activated]
Two vortices of black energy instantly sprang to life, wrapping my hands and forearms in swirling, hissing spirals. They were larger than before, denser. I felt the cost: 10% of my total energy vanished to keep them both active. The darkness contrasted violently with the pale glow of my Positive Mantle.
And then, I ran.
I launched myself off the ramp into the sea of rats. The first impact was brutal. My right fist, wrapped in the Dark Drill, tore through a rat's skull like paper. My left smashed through another's chest. The dark satisfaction returned, a hot, addictive rush.
DIE!
I began to move through them, striking, tearing, piercing. Each blow from the drills was an almost instant kill. Rats fell around me, but there were too many. For every one I killed, two more took its place, snapping and clawing. My Positive Mantle deflected most of the minor attacks, diverting claws and teeth with an invisible force, but I felt the dull impacts against the ethereal barrier.
I was getting careless. My offensive became reckless, "going wild," without a pattern, fueled only by fury and that intoxicating sense of power. But my energy wasn't infinite, and the physical exertion began to take its toll. My breathing became ragged, my muscles burned. A swipe, stronger than the rest, momentarily broke through the Mantle, leaving a burning scratch on my arm.
I can't keep this up!
With a final blow that sent a rat flying, I used the Positive Mantle to repel the ground beneath my feet, propelling myself backward in a long, swift jump, landing a safe distance from the main mass of the horde. I was panting, sweat stinging my eyes. I'd taken out maybe twenty, thirty, but hundreds remained, and my energy had dropped significantly.
I needed my trump card. The most powerful technique I'd created.
I raised both hands, concentrating. The ease with which my powers responded was still surprising, almost innate.
[Polaris - Creation]
White energy spiraling to the right, black energy to the left. I forced them closer, to swirl, to collapse. A grayish, vibrant sphere, about the size of a yoga ball, formed between my hands, unstable and dangerous. I felt the cost, a solid 10% of my energy for this amplified version.
Without hesitation, I hurled it with all my might into the heart of the horde.
The Polaris sphere flew silently, and upon impact with the rocky ground amidst the rats, it didn't explode outward. It did the opposite. The light seemed to fold in on itself, creating a point of absolute darkness that sucked everything within a several-meter radius into it. There was a horrible sound, like air being torn and matter imploding, followed by an unnatural silence. Where the sphere had struck, only a smoking, empty crater remained. The nearby rats simply... vanished, crushed or disintegrated by the force of the implosion.
It worked, and how! But it wasn't enough. There were still so many left.
More!
I forced my energy, ignoring the growing sense of inner emptiness. Left hand, Polaris. Throw. Right hand, Polaris. Throw. Over and over. Each gray sphere consumed 5% of my remaining energy. I threw one, two, three... five... ten... twelve. Twelve spheres of silent annihilation impacted different points of the horde. Each created a momentary void, a devouring vortex that erased rats from existence.
The strain was immense. My vision began to blur at the edges, my body trembled from the tension of channeling so much energy so quickly. Sweat soaked my clothes. After the twelfth sphere, I nearly fell to my knees.
I surveyed the result. The cavern was littered with smoking craters. The horde had been decimated. No longer thousands, perhaps only a few dozen remained, scattered, disoriented, and terrified. And on the altar, still standing but visibly wounded, with large burns and chunks of flesh torn away where the implosions had grazed him, stood the Rat King.
He stared at me, his red eyes glowing with pure, focused hatred. He let out a guttural roar, a challenge.
I checked my energy. Barely 30%. The Positive Mantle was still active, but I felt its protection weakening. This would be the final battle. All or nothing.
I remembered the Mantle's repulsive force, how it had propelled me backward. Could I use it to move? The idea arose from necessity.
I lunged toward the altar. The Rat King, despite his injuries, moved with terrifying speed for his size, slashing with his razor-sharp claws. They were too fast. Instinctively, I focused the Positive Mantle's repulsion downward, against the ground. With a burst of energy, I shot sideways, narrowly avoiding the claws. I landed awkwardly, but unharmed.
It works!
The Rat King charged again, this time trying to bite me with his giant jaws. I used the repulsion again, this time to propel myself backward and gain distance. It was like skating on air, brief, energetic bursts that allowed me to move erratically and quickly, though they consumed small but constant amounts of energy.
Now I understood. The experience gained almost unconsciously against the lesser rats earlier, those small positional adjustments... I now knew how to use them.
We faced off again. The Rat King launched another attack. I formed the Dark Drill in my right hand as I used a repulsion boost to dodge to his side. I seized the opening and plunged the drill into his left shoulder. The tough flesh resisted, but the drill penetrated, eliciting a roar of pain and fury from the beast.
He tried to grab me with his injured arm, but I was already using another boost to retreat. He turned, snapping a desperate bite at my right arm, the one wielding the drill.
It was now or never. Instead of dodging backward or to the side, I focused the Positive Mantle's repulsion downward with all my remaining strength. I ducked at incredible speed, passing just beneath his drooling jaws. In the same split second, I reversed the repulsion, pushing myself upward from the ground with brutal force.
I ascended like a rocket. I activated the Dark Drill in my left hand as I rose. I aimed. My fist, wrapped in darkness, impacted beneath the Rat King's jaw with devastating force. I felt bone shatter, and I kept pushing upward, the drill spinning wildly, tearing through flesh, bone, and brain until it emerged from the top of the monstrous skull.
The giant body shuddered violently and then collapsed, inert, onto the altar.
Silence.
I fell to my knees on the rocky platform, panting, trembling from exhaustion and residual tension. My energy was almost zero, maybe 5%. The Positive Mantle flickered and dissipated. The crown on my head lost its intensity.
I'd done it. They were dead. All of them. The revenge... I'd achieved it. I felt a wave of relief, of triumph... but the dark satisfaction from before was absent, replaced by a cold emptiness and overwhelming fatigue.
As I tried to catch my breath, the air above the altar, directly above the Rat King's corpse, began to distort. A black point appeared, rapidly expanding into a dark, swirling portal, identical to the one I'd seen on the bridge, from which the first rats had emerged.
The exit. Or perhaps, the entrance to something worse.
I rose with difficulty. I had to go; it was my only option. But I took only a few steps before stopping. What if there were more rats on the other side? Hundreds? Thousands? In my current state, I wouldn't last a second.
I looked around, at the silent cavern filled with death. No. I had to be smart. I had to recover.
"Board," I murmured, my voice hoarse from the effort.
The faithful chessboard floated silently from the cavern entrance to the altar and positioned itself at my knees. I slumped onto it, my body protesting the abuse. I closed my eyes. I needed to regain energy. I needed to be prepared for whatever was on the other side of that black portal. Vengeance was complete, but survival had only just begun.