PASSAGE 38: DEFIANCE TO DESPAIR

Rain lashed down in a relentless torrent, mirroring the relentless gaze of the Carrion Weaver fixed upon Alaric. The colossal monstrosity loomed on the horizon, a grotesque testament to the power of the rift. Atop a half-collapsed building, Alaric stood his ground, the weight of responsibility a heavy cloak upon his shoulders.

For a tense moment, predator and prey locked eyes. The Carrion Weaver, a whirlwind of rage and destruction. Alaric, a flicker of defiance amidst the storm. Then, with a roar that shook the very foundations of the city, the Carrion Weaver lunged. 

A deafening crack of thunder echoed Alaric's own battle cry. It was his signal, his moment to act. In a burst of adrenaline-fueled speed, he launched himself towards the monstrous hand. The Carrion Weaver, anticipating his move, hurled another massive piece of debris with bone-crushing force.

But Alaric was no longer the same boy who stumbled through the Tranquility Keep. With a practiced flick of his wrist, he met the debris head-on. The Crescent Reaver, imbued with the power of the Eye of Chronos, glowed with an otherworldly light as it sliced effortlessly through the massive chunk of concrete. The debris shattered into a shower of dust, raining down upon the city below.

Unfazed, Alaric continued his reckless charge, a blur of defiance against the Carrion Weaver's monstrous form. The colossal hand, thick enough to crush a building in its grip, lashed out at him with earth-shattering speed. But Alaric, fueled by a desperate hope. He twisted with an agility that defied his earlier clumsiness, narrowly avoiding the crushing blow.

With a surge of adrenaline, he launched himself onto the monstrous arm, using it as a grotesque, uneven bridge. He sprinted upwards, defying gravity as he clambered toward the Carrion Weaver's head – a grotesque mountain of bone and decaying flesh. He swung the Crescent Reaver with all his might, aiming for the creature's forehead, the supposed weak point of most bipedal Calamities.

But the blow landed with a sickening clang. Instead of flesh or bone giving way, the Crescent Reaver met with something akin to otherworldly steel. A spray of sparks erupted from the point of impact, showering Alaric with a rain of superheated metal. His arms vibrated with the force of the deflected blow, threatening to dislodge the weapon from his grasp.

Disbelief warred with a surge of cold terror in Alaric's chest. The Carrion Weaver, seemingly unfazed by the audacious attack, let out a bone-chilling roar that rattled his very core. Alaric clung precariously to the monstrous arm, a fly clinging to a speeding truck.

The monstrous hand swiped at him again, a meaty batter that could flatten a skyscraper. Alaric, clinging desperately to the Carrion Weaver's arm, launched himself free with a desperate leap. He tumbled through the air, the wind whipping at his cloak, and landed with a bone-jarring thud on the rooftop of a nearby building.

"Alaric! What on bloody earth are you doing?!" Jake's voice crackled through the earpiece, a mix of fury and concern. "I thought you were just going to distract it?!"

Alaric grinned, a spark of manic defiance dancing in his eye even through the mask. "Distract it? No, Jake," he replied, his voice ragged but determined. "I'm leading it on a merry chase!"

He turned towards the Carrion Weaver, the colossal monstrosity still looming over the devastated cityscape. With a cupped hand around his mouth, he shouted, his voice echoing through the ruined streets. "Hey, you overgrown pile of scrap metal! Want a fight? Come and get it!"

A moment of stunned silence followed. Then, to Alaric's immense satisfaction, a flicker of movement in the Carrion Weaver's monstrous form. Its head turned, its crimson eyes narrowing on the defiant figure on the rooftop. A guttural rumble erupted from its throat, a sound that sent shivers down Alaric's spine despite himself. But beneath it all, he could almost swear he detected a hint... of amusement?

A slow, predatory smile stretched across Alaric's face beneath the mask. He had its attention. Now, the real challenge began. With a mental map forming in his head, he focused his gaze on a point several kilometers away – a vast, open field on the outskirts of the city. It was a gamble, a desperate bid to lure the Carrion Weaver away from the densely populated areas. 

Alaric took a cautious step back, his hand tightening around the Crescent Reaver. He wasn't naive enough to believe the Carrion Weaver would simply let him walk away. But to his utter surprise, the monstrous entity shifted its gaze, its crimson eyes no longer locked on him.

"Hey!" Alaric roared, his voice laced with a desperate edge. "Where do you think you're going, you oversized scrap heap?! Don't you dare take your eyes off me!"

The Carrion Weaver ignored his tirade, one of its massive hands reaching down and plucking a colossal chunk of metal from the wreckage of a fallen building. It hefted the debris like a child's toy, aiming it with surprising precision. Confusion etched lines on Alaric's face beneath the mask as he followed the creature's gaze. The rain lashed down mercilessly, blurring his vision and turning the cityscape into a watercolor of destruction. But amidst the downpour, a flicker of light caught his eye – a faint, blinking beacon in the distance.

Straining his eyes, Alaric focused on the light. It grew clearer, resolving into the unmistakable shape of a helicopter, its news channel logo emblazoned brightly on its side. A cold dread settled in Alaric's gut. The Carrion Weaver wasn't aiming for him anymore. It was aiming for the unsuspecting news crew, a juicy target dangling in the rain-soaked sky.

The realization struck Alaric with the force of a thunderbolt. He hadn't been the Carrion Weaver's only target – he'd been a distraction. A sickening feeling of helplessness washed over him. He'd managed to lure the colossal monster away from the city, but now it had a new prey in sight.  And Alaric, a lone figure on a crumbling rooftop, was nowhere near strong enough to stop it. 

A voice crackled through the relentless downpour, booming from a hovering news chopper high above the devastation. "We're here live at the scene of the Calamity outbreak! And folks, you're not gonna believe your eyes!" The male anchor's voice, laced with a nervous thrill, echoed down to Alaric's position on the rooftop. "That's a colossal skeletal monstrosity right there! Based on our sources, it's called the Carrion Weaver!"

Alaric's breath hitched. The colossal monstrosity, the Carrion Weaver, wasn't looking at him anymore. Its crimson gaze had fixated on the source of the booming voice – the news chopper hovering precariously in the rain-whipped sky.  

"Jake!" Alaric roared into the earpiece, his voice laced with a desperate urgency. "We need to save those reporters, now!"

"I know, I know!" Jake's voice crackled back, strained with exertion. Alaric could almost picture his friend sprinting through the ravaged streets, a whirlwind of determination. "Just hold on, I'm almost there!"

A beat of silence followed, broken only by the relentless drumming of rain. Then, a triumphant shout echoed from the earpiece. "Activating Creation Skill: Junkheap Forge!"

Alaric raised an eyebrow. That was a common skill for Alchemist-type Hunters, allowing them to create rudimentary objects from scrap. But what could Jake possibly forge that would help against a monstrosity like the Carrion Weaver?

The answer came a moment later, a jarring metallic clang rising above the din of the storm. A voice, amplified by a makeshift megaphone cobbled together from scrap metal, boomed through the city. "Hey! You boneheaded reporters up there! Get out of dodge! That overgrown pile of scrap metal is aiming for you!"

The news crew in the chopper, caught up in the adrenaline rush of live reporting, barely registered the initial warning. But then, the cameraman zoomed in, his focus shifting from the Carrion Weaver's imposing silhouette to a massive piece of steel hurtling through the air.

"Oh my God! Incoming!" The cameraman's scream pierced the airwaves, a stark contrast to the news anchor's earlier bravado.  

"Back off now! We need to get out of here!" The panicked scream of the male reporter echoed through the storm as the news chopper lurched violently. The pilot, face pale with fear, threw the craft into a desperate turn, praying to avoid the hurtling debris.

Alaric watched, heart hammering in his chest, as the colossal piece of metal launched by the Carrion Weaver arced through the air. Reacting purely on instinct, he summoned the Crescent Reaver into his hand. With a guttural yell that tore through the howling wind, he flung the blade with all his might.

The Crescent Reaver, imbued with the power of the Eye of Chronos, took on an otherworldly appearance. A black and crimson aura swirled around it as it shot through the air, resembling a dark, spinning saucer hurtling towards the debris.

The impact was deafening. The Reaver met the metal dead-on, its enchanted edge slicing cleanly through the colossal chunk. But the force of the blow sent the Reaver spinning off course, its trajectory thrown off. While it successfully cleaved the metal in half, one half continued its deadly path towards the chopper.

A sickening crunch echoed through the air as the remaining chunk of metal slammed into the chopper's tail rotor. The craft shuddered violently, its balance thrown irreparably off. The pilot fought for control, but it was a losing battle. The news chopper spun out of control, the terrified screams of the crew cutting through the din.

Alaric watched in horror as the chopper, a mangled hunk of metal, disappeared behind a building. A monstrous fireball erupted a moment later, painting the rain-streaked sky with an orange glow.

A primal fury unlike anything he'd ever experienced surged through Alaric. His body trembled, a dark aura erupting from him like a storm cloud. The Eye of Chronos, usually a source of calm power, thrummed with a malevolent energy. For the first time since the rift opened, the Carrion Weaver felt a flicker of fear – a primal recognition of the monstrous rage radiating from Alaric.

This wasn't the power Alaric wanted to wield. It was the same destructive rage that had consumed him after Selena's death, a dark power he knew as the Ephemeral Surge. But in this desperate moment, with the taste of ash and despair filling his mouth, Alaric knew he had no other choice. He would become the monster he fought, if it meant protecting the city, even for a moment.