2nd Fragment: -ROOTS-

Even after Sam's long explanation, Lucy was still not convinced by the plan. She thinks it was careless and dangerous -- but, as much as she hates to admit it, it was the only plan they had right now.

Standing side-by-side with Sam in the narrow tunnel, she waited restlessly for Rupert's 'signal' -- at least that was what he called it before he ran off into the darkness.

"You know, Sam?" Lucy struck up a conversation, hoping it would alleviate some of her agitations, "You realize we are possibly going against the largest horde of Lacerators we have ever faced?"

Sam turned his head toward her and answered, "Yes. I'm aware of that."

"And if we fail, we're going to die in agony, shredded to pieces by those monsters?" she added.

"Of course. But there is also a possibility that we could walk out of here alive and in one piece," Sam replied confidently.

"Ah, optimism. It is certainly an admirable trait but not exactly reassuring."

"Reassuring or not, this same optimism has saved our necks countless times. Surely you haven't forgotten about the Trappers incident?"

"Oh, that," sighed Lucy, rolling her eyes, "Fine, I'll give you that. Although, I remember we also got our asses handed to us that day. Pretty badly too."

The couple's idle chit-chat was interrupted by approaching footsteps. Sam and Lucy gave each other a solid nod -- before promptly brandishing their weapons and bracing themselves for the incoming swarm.

"Oh crap!" said Rupert repeatedly as he sprung out of the darkness with a big group of Lacerators on his tail.

"Now!"

As soon as Sam gave the order, Rupert spun around with a pair of blue-edged kama in his hands.

"It's my turn now, boys!" Rupert laughed maniacally. Overcame by his bloodlust and adrenaline, the elder Nightingale charged headfirst into the furious crowds, swinging his weapon around like a deranged man.

"How predictable," Lucy grumbled. Nevertheless, she came to her brother's aid, cutting down every monster in the vicinity.

Sam eventually joined the fight, but instead of using the Fiery Edge again, he chose to dispose of the enemies with his own swordsmanship.

Silently, he swung his blade with deadly precision, decapitating each Lacerator that came close without an inch of hesitation. At the same time, Sam took a hurried look at Rupert who was guffawing like a madman.

'Strange,' Sam thought. Even though he had seen the man in action numerous times, he still couldn't understand Rupert's fondness for slaughtering the cannibalistic creatures. Or perhaps his own sense of duty prevented him from sharing his friend's sentiment.

"33, 34, 35," Rupert gleefully counted until he felt someone tugged him in the back. "What the heck!? Lucy?!" The elder Nightingale expressed his surprise at his younger sibling's unexpected action.

But rather than explaining herself, Lucy pointed her finger toward the other side of the dwindling swarm. It was a Distorted that was entirely different than the one they're currently facing. Dark, throbbing pustules covered the left side of its scraggy body, except for its iris-less right eyes and grimy mouth.

"A Bulbhead? Here?" Lucy gasped. The creature was known to patrol the shore and the grassland, never a Nest. So, it was a jarring sight for her, and no doubt, to her brother and Sam.

The creature's teeth razor-sharp chattered eagerly as soon as it saw the trio. Its spindly fingers reached for one of the lumps on its body and yanked it off with a single motion.

"Oh, that's not good. That's not good at all," said Lucy, her feet slowly shuffled backward.

The Bulbhead let out a hog-like grunt before it hurled the lump in its hand toward the trio.

Noticing the flying projectile, Rupert immediately shoved his sister away -- seconds before the tumor hit the ground in front of him and exploded on impact -- releasing a black, tar-like fluid all over the place.

"Shit!" cursed Rupert as some of the sulfur-scented slimes got on his robe, prompting him to toss the entire cloak away. He then watched quietly as the sticky fluid ate through the cloth in less than five seconds, turning it into a pile of ashes. Fortunately for him, most of the Lacerators were drenched in the same corrosive substance, and it didn't take long for their gangly figures to be reduced into a pool of sludge.

"Lucky me," Rupert remarked triumphantly. As he shifted his attention to the Bulbhead, the creature was already holding one of the gelatinous bombs. "Oh no, you don't!" exclaimed the elder Nightingale. Guided only by instinct, Rupert threw the sickle in his right hand, and the curved blade planted itself into the black lump -- causing it to burst, splattering the caustic slime on the Bulbhead's upper torso. The Distorted instantly let out a bloodcurdling scream as the sludge bore into its arm and head, greedily devouring every inch of its skull and bones.

"Got you!" Rupert gave a cackle of laughter until a Lacerator came to him with both claws over its head. Before the creature could slice the man open, it suddenly froze in its place.

"I thought I told you not to get too excited."

The Lacerator instantly fell to the ground like a mannequin, revealing an annoyed-looking Lucy standing with a bloody dagger in her hand.

"Thanks, little sis," Rupert sighed out of relief.

"It's not over yet," replied Lucy, gesturing at Sam, who was fighting the last Lacerator near the burrow's end. The vermillion-eyed man dodged an attack and swiftly ran his katana through the creature's chest. Without pulling out the sword from Lacerator's torso, Sam shoved it against the wall, slowly twisting the edge. The monster let out a grunt; its mouth twitched, snarling in a foreign tongue.

"Did you just...talk?" or at least, it tried to. Instead of responding to Sam's question, the Lacerator grabbed the katana and yanked the blade out of its chest. Sam could only watch in shock as the creature slid down the wall, bleeding itself out.

"You alright, dude? You looked a bit upset," asked Rupert after tapping Sam on the back.

"No, it's a...probably just my imagination. Here," Sam picked the kama off the ground and handed it to the elder Nightingale. "Nice shot, by the way."

"Don't encourage him," Lucy jumped into the conversation.

"Come on now, baby sis. A little compliment won't do anyone any harm, right?" said Rupert with a grin across his face.

"Oh, don't get me wrong, brother. I have nothing against a compliment, but we both know you can be a little bit 'impatient' after receiving one. And, before I forget," Lucy punches Rupert squarely in the stomach, causing the latter to let out a faint whimper.

"That's for running out on Sam and me."

Rupert nodded his head before replying, "Point taken."

ɹɹ********************************************

Despite the earlier encounter, the three eventually reached their destination: the inner sanctum of the Nest. As they anticipated, the current chamber was much more spacious than the prior ones, and it was missing the gaudy skull torches. In their place were massive roots expanding in every part of the chamber to the point it was nearly impossible to see the other side of the room.

"Damn, I didn't expect the Infestation was already this bad," Lucy commented. It was a miracle, she thought, that the nearby town had not yet been decimated by the Distorted. Infestation aside, she didn't see any signs of the rumored Mangler, which could either be good news or, a bad one.

"I don't think it left," said Rupert as if he was reading into his sister's mind. He cautiously approached the outgrowths that were exuding a runny, crimson-red liquid from their hardened body. They were the Ichor, or, sarcastically known as the Elixir of Life -- a constantly circulating fluid providing nutrients to the roots.

"Guys," Sam called out to the siblings, "I think I just found our esteemed guest."

In the middle of the chamber, a giant figure sat solemnly between the enormous roots with its pale and bald head tilted downward. Initially, the trio was hesitant to approach the colossal Distorted until they saw the root-like structure sprouted from its upper torso.

"Is it...is it feeding off of those roots?" Rupert asked rhetorically.

"Whatever it's doing, it doesn't seem to notice our presence," said Sam as he approached the sleeping giant. After a closer look, the Distorted fitted the physical description of a Mangler: a mouthless square face and a broad chest covered with the indentations of its victims' faces. Then, he noticed something gleaming on its sternum -- a knuckle-sized rock jutting out of the skin as if it was stuck in there by someone -- or something.

"Hey, Lucy. Have you seen something like this in your study?" Sam asked the youngest Nightingale, an avid reader of the bestiary.

"The Crystal of Birth buried in a Distorted? No, I'm afraid not," Lucy retorted.

"Hm, something smells here, and it's not the Ichor," Rupert grumbled, feeling a wave of uneasiness washed over him.

'So, you've come, Children of the New World.'

The trio fidgeted after they were greeted by a gruff, disembodied voice.

"Am I hearing things, or did that crystal just talk?" remarked Rupert.

"Who are you? Identify yourself," Sam demanded, but his request was returned with a short, ominous laugh.

'An existence, like yourselves.'

"That's a pretty vague answer. What exactly are you? A ghost? Or the giant sleeping between the roots?"

'This ephemeral body is merely a vessel, similar to the one you slew.'

"Now you're just spouting gibberish, mate. Talk some sense, damn it!" exclaimed Rupert.

'What we find more illogical is for humans to voluntarily expose themselves to countless pain and struggle. Isn't it humanity's desire to be free from turmoil and suffering? To crave for emancipation?'

"Now that's ironic. Your kind has been slaughtering us for nearly a century -- and yet, here you are preaching to us about pain?" Lucy lashed back.

'We offer the optimal solution to humanity's predicament: death. To be permanently liberated from worldly torments. Aren't this what humans truly desire?'

"Heck no! Since when have we desired that?" Rupert cried out.

The voice paused as it pondered over the siblings' defiant response.

'We realize you are oblivious to the reality of this world. You enabled yourself to be blinded by desperation, bloodlust, and vengeance.'

"Vengeance?" Lucy muttered. "What are you on about?"

'Do not feign ignorance, Child of the Lake. You seek the one responsible for your progenitors' death. While you, Child of the Flame, are seeking for your forgotten past.'

Sam was frowning beneath his mask. How could a piece of rock possess such information? He wondered.

Lucy drew her weapon, aiming the tip directly at the crystal, and threatened the voice, "I don't know who you are, but it seems you know something about my parents' murder. So, give me a name unless you want to be smashed into smithereens."

'What will that accomplish other than bringing more pain to yourself and those around you?'

"To hell with all that! Tell me what I want to know! NOW!" Lucy shouted aggressively.

The crystal let out a flash of light which temporarily blinded the trio -- using the fleeting moment of disorientation to bury itself into the Mangler's torso. Seconds later, the enormous Distorted raised its head, and its bloodshot eyes were fixated on the trio.

Sam, who is the first to recover his eyesight, and noticed the goliath's intense stare, said to his friend, "I think it's time for us to leave."

The entire chamber quivered as the Mangler wrenched its arms free from the coiling roots. The trio could barely stand on their own two feet, and to make matters worse, the ceiling above their heads slowly started to crumble.

"Crap!" Rupert blurted out after he was nearly crushed by falling stone debris. "God damn it, Lucy! You just have to go and upset that little rock!"

"Me?! You were yelling at it too!"

"Enough, you two!" Sam chided the siblings before pointing his finger at the tunnel where they came from. "Through there! Hurry!"