Horizon Ho (5) — Unquenchable Flames

—Thud! Thud! Seongjin's body rolled across the floor. His vision flipped from the impact, and his ears rang deafeningly.

—Rumble... Dust and metal shards swirled like a storm. The air grew heavy as stone, making even breathing a struggle.

“...Cough!”

Dust filled his lungs, and Seongjin hacked violently. One cough brought a stream of blood pouring from his mouth. Forcing his eyes open, his blurred vision swam red. All around lay shattered container fragments, piled and twisted from the cascade. They'd collided and locked together, forming a sealed pocket amid the wreckage. And at its center was Seongjin.

He tried to rise, but excruciating pain hit late, twisting his head aside.

“......”

His right side was gone. Part of his chest, shoulder, flank, right arm—vanished. Where they should ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠have been was empty space, revealing the red container shard he leaned against, its outer wall stark against the black void beyond. Not even bone fragments or flesh remained. The acrid stench of burnt gunpowder hung thick.

If not for Nelson's intervention, it wouldn't have been half his body—it would've been his head.

—Beep.

Blood loss blurred his sight; a droning hum filled his ears. Sensation like a red-hot iron rod jammed into his bones scraped endlessly at his nerves. Every breath brought waves of agony gnawing his mind.

“...Ah.”

Opening his mouth let air hiss out. From where his chest should be, it escaped directly. Only then did he realize.

“Ha... haha...”

Laughter or breath leaked out—he couldn't tell. Blood kept flowing. The floor was already soaked in crimson. His body cooled rapidly; sensation had long fled his limbs. He accepted it calmly. Strangely, no fear came. No screams, no thrashing. It felt like someone else's story.

Dropped alone into an unknown world, shot in nameless streets, stained with blood, killing countless times to survive—and now here. All because of one wrong ship.

His lips twitched faintly. Smile or spasm? He couldn't tell. Lungs wouldn't work. Forcing a breath pulled something sticky up his throat instead of air.

“......Hoo.”

Something—breath or blood—spilled from his mouth. Was this the end? In a forgotten place, buried in containers, an nameless corpse. A life stained with blood, pain, betrayal, wounds.

But... it hadn't been bad. Not really.

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

No. A lie.

What wasn't bad about it?

He'd achieved nothing, changed nothing. Even with a chance, he'd climbed nowhere. He pictured the mechanical arm. The cyborg brute. That repulsive face.

Couldn't reach it. Despite struggling, gathering everything—he couldn't touch it. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠His shattered self, defeated by this, was nauseatingly unbearable.

Irritation boiled. He wanted to rip it apart.

From his half-gone chest, a spark ignited. Tiny. But real.

The spark blazed. Feeding on his body as kindling. An alien sensation surged from his legs to his scalp. Like embers flaring atop a mountain of logs.

This end. This conclusion. Unacceptable.

Forcing his unresponsive eyes, he dragged his blurred gaze.

'...!'

Between crumbled red containers gleamed a familiar black box. The one he'd moved that first day. Its corner smashed, it lay tumbled. From within, something black oozed out.

Fluid-like, smoke-like, it writhed faintly, alive, drawing in all around it.

And from it flowed a familiar sensation.

—Yes. It was you.

Dragging himself with one arm, he crawled slowly toward it. No reason. Just had to.

Pulling his body forward felt alien with half gone. Flesh tore against container shards. Pain followed a beat late. Teeth gritted, he advanced.

Finally, fingertips touched it.

—Crackle.

The world flipped. Cold. Hot. Heavy. Light. Impossible sensations crashed together indistinguishably. Like every sense torn apart and sewn back in chaos.

“Aaaagh—!”

This time, he couldn't hold it. A scream burst unbidden.

Black matter climbed his body. Covered the severed half, burrowed in. Pierced his mind, devouring the flame—his blaze, raging to consume all, flickered toward extinction.

Black tentacles coiled around him. Couldn't move.

Then—a blue glow appeared, approaching the tentacles. It seeped in on contact. Tentacles sagged, fell limp.

“...!”

His mind snapped clear. Teeth clenched—crunching, blood flavored his tongue.

Free hand grabbed, tore the black matter. Chewy like flesh, sticky like slime—he bit, chewed, swallowed it.

My flame. My will's blaze.

You pathetic lump. Who said you could take it?

—Whoosh.

Flames exploded atop the log mountain. Black waves receded. Fire advanced. Crimson blaze devoured the black tide. Its form crumbled to ash.

Like a deep-sea creature dragged to air, crushed and collapsing.

...Time lost meaning.

The black waves vanished. Left was a far larger, heavier, fiercer blaze.

They say this world has devices where electricity makes one side cold, the other hot. Contradictory properties balanced in one structure. Impossible, yet real.

I became that.

Defeat itself? Fine. Win next time.

But no next time? This the end?

Then I'm ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠eternally the loser.

I hate losing. Despise it.

That denial of my existence—I want to shred it.

I want to win. Prove superiority.

Growing stronger. Will grow stronger.

Someday stand atop the sky, overlooking all.

“......”

He grasped the nearly still black remnants.

I must grow strong. Unassailably so. Never lose again.

So.

Give me everything—

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In the steel-sealed space, a kneeling figure raised its head. Air shifted.

—Crunch.

Missing half filled with flesh and blood; vision cleared. Deep black irises blazed scarlet.

Slowly, it rose. Immense power pulsed, condensed, ready to burst.

—Pour.

Rain from the shattered ceiling linked sky and earth, streaming down its body. Beyond steel beams, storm clouds darkened the sky.

The figure extended its right hand skyward.

And clenched it.

“...Not yet.”

Harsh, raspy, cracked voice.

“Not over yet.”

The fire wouldn't die. Too much fuel.

And now.

He'd embrace the flames.

• • • • • • • • • •

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—Rumble... Boom!

The entire underground collapsed, silence falling only after ages. Dust, smoke, and scorched metal stench filled the space.

—Crunch.

Bamut rose slowly from under the containers. Left shoulder armor dented, mechanical arm's plating peeled, exposing cables and cylinders. Not fatal.

“...Damn it.”

Over half the underground gone; his area buried. Ceiling half-down, rain poured from the sky. Countless drops drummed steel, echoing strikes everywhere.

Bamut scanned. No sign of Seongjin. His direction fully buried. Dozens of containers layered thick—impossible to guess contents.

Bamut was certain.

“It's over.”

No survival in that collapse. Especially leg-broken, head-cracked. Even mad tenacity couldn't defy human limits.

He exhaled shortly. All his men dead to those two. Meant searching remaining containers alone.

If target in rubble? Worse. Such destruction would've shredded nearby cargo to rags. His quarry too.

“......Shit.”

Mission failed.

Short curse, turned away. From pocket, his last two—no, one used landing, so sole portal generator.

Odd commission cost men, gear, energy rifle. Bamut suppressed rage, set to place device.

Then—

—Squelch.

Faint, but clear. Bamut froze.

“...?”

Slowly turned. Amid container shards, unsettled dust—something rose slowly.

—Crunch.

“...Impossible.”

Dust parted, revealing a figure. Han Seongjin. Perfect, unscathed body emerged. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠And those eyes—blazing red irises fixed on Bamut.

“...You.”

Bamut's mouth twisted.

“How the h—"

“Ah.”

Cracked voice. Clear enunciation. Seongjin stepped forward.

—Thud.

Floor cratered.

“Finally found you.”

With that, Seongjin grinned.

Bamut instinctively raised mechanical arm. Energy gathered in palm, heat condensing.

—Whine!

Then—

“?!”

Seongjin vanished from sight. Not gone—too fast.

Next instant—

—Crunch!!

Seongjin's fist smashed Bamut's face. Bone-shatter vibrated through knuckles. Jaw caved; three, four teeth flew.

—Boom!!

Bamut's bulk flew back, smashing containers, embedding.

“Gah!!”

Seongjin approached slowly.

—Crack!!

Stepped on Bamut's leg, pulverizing. Horrid rupture echoed.

“Argh...! Ngh...”

Then, eerie black tentacles from Seongjin's arm. Coiled Bamut's ankle effortlessly.

—Snap.

“Aaaagh!!”

Ankle shattered; Seongjin yanked Bamut like dragged meat. Face scraped floor, blood-mixed grind.

—Whoosh!

Swinging tentacle like flail—

—Boom!

Bamut's head cratered container wall, metal dented.

“Gaaah!!”

Didn't stop. Once. Twice. Thrice. Each impact reddened Bamut's vision.

“...Stop…!”

Begging leaked first from Bamut.

“Please... spare—”

Seongjin paused. Smiled quietly.

“Ah.”

Grabbed mechanical arm. Metal crumpled like clay, tore.

“This arm.”

—Snap!

Ripped shoulder-out.

“Aaaaaagh—!!”

Arm hit floor, spasming. Sparks, flames.

Seongjin stomped, crushed.

—Crunch!

Bamut crawled back, gasping. Legs useless. Seongjin closed, stomped body.

Opened fist, gripped both legs, pulled opposite directions.

—Riiip.

“Aaaagh—!!!”

Ominous tear from groin split halves. Slow force tore like wet paper.

“Gurgle, guh...”

Cracks spidered Bamut's face; phlegm-mixed groans.

Finally—

—Splorch!

Blood, black fluid, mystery parts sprayed; body halved.

—Thud! Thud!

Seongjin released. Two halves—once one—hit floor, still.

Splatter dirtied Seongjin, but pounding rain from ceiling washed it instantly.

Silence returned underground. Seongjin looked away.

His eyes caught the heavily altered status window.