Unmade Chapter 13: Chapter 13: more than one

Read chapter 13 of Unmade by churro on NovelPedia.

The ocean of blood had grown quiet again. Where moments ago it had burned like a living inferno, it now laid still, rippling softly beneath the dull reflection of the black suns above. Yet those ripples were not natural. They moved with purpose, small and deliberate, drawing closer with every passing moment. Vale narrowed his eyes. 'It’s shrinking,' he realized. The ripples were growing smaller, gentler, almost delicate now, like the surface of the sea itself was holding its breath. The centipede was returning, and just as it had once grown vast enough to devour a god, it was now dwindling back into something small enough to approach its master. The flames that had devoured the monster had left no trace, no ash, no bone, not even a stain in the crimson waters, but Vale barely paid that any mind. His attention was fixed on the chained man, who sat silently beside him at the edge of the endless sea. The man hadn’t moved. He sat cross-legged, his posture calm and steady, the golden sun carved into his obsidian mask glinting faintly in the dim light. He could’ve been a statue carved from night itself, if not for the slow rise and fall of his chest. Vale shifted his gaze to the blades that pierced the man’s back and torso, glimmering faintly beneath the dark sky. They looked impossibly deep, like anchors driven through flesh and bone, yet the man carried himself with an ease that made no sense. 'He shouldn’t even be able to breathe with those wounds,' Vale thought, frowning. 'So how is he still sitting like that… like nothing matters?' He exhaled slowly, trying to push the thought away. “Should I keep asking him questions?” he muttered under his breath, glancing at the reflection of the golden sun on the mask. The chained man gave no sign of having heard. After a brief pause, Vale sighed, rose to his feet, and reached down to retrieve his blade from the surface of the blood. The weapon slid free with a faint hiss. He walked forward until he was only a few meters away from the chained man, then sat again, cross-legged, mirroring his posture. For a moment, neither spoke. Only the faint sound of rippling blood filled the silence between them. Finally, Vale cleared his throat. “Hey,” he said. “Is it common for monsters like that to appear here?” His voice carried softly across the still air, the question simple but weighted. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to know the answer, but he had to. Whether the creature had come for him or for something else might mean the difference between survival and damnation. The chained man tilted his head slightly. His long, dark hair fell across the front of his mask, veiling half of the golden sun etched into it. Then, wordlessly, he nodded. Vale let out a quiet breath of relief. “So… not just me then,” he murmured, his tone half joking, half weary. The idea that the monster hadn’t appeared because of him was strangely comforting, almost enough to make him forget the heat of the flames still lingering in the air. He was about to ask another question when something caught his eye. A ripple. It appeared just beside the chained man, small, circular, and oddly calm. Vale leaned forward, squinting. “That must be the centipede,” he said softly. “It’s finally back.” The chained man didn’t reply. Instead, he lowered one hand toward the ripple, his fingers hovering above it. The surface of the blood trembled, then split, and something small and white emerged. It wasn’t the centipede. Vale’s eyes widened. From the crimson depths, a small creature rose, a cat, its fur impossibly pure, gleaming white against the red. It stepped delicately onto the man’s palm, stretching slightly before brushing its head against his hand. Its movements were fluid, graceful and completely out of place in this world of blood and ruin. The man began to pet it, slow and gentle. The cat purred softly, curling its tail around his wrist. Before Vale could even process what he was seeing, another ripple appeared. This time, a small black liza