Eternal Undying Chronicles

Chapter 50 Grim Determination

Alicarde waited impatiently for the doctor to return, taking another cursory look around the lab. The sterile, white room was filled with various instruments—metallic tables gleaming under the bright fluorescent lights, vials of strange liquids bubbling in the corners, and advanced machinery whirring softly in the background.

His eyes landed on his sword lying on one of the tables, its dark gleam standing out among the cold, clinical environment. He laughed quietly to himself, a bitter edge to his tone.

"I can always trust that wretched thing to stick with me," he murmured, somewhat relieved that the sword had made its way back to him once more.

A few minutes later, the door drifted open, and the doctor returned, carrying a tray of food. His movements were slow, confident, deliberate, and filled with an unsettling air of deranged self-satisfaction.

He approached Alicarde with a twisted smile, his pale eyes partially obscured by his thick, glasses.

"You must be hungry. Let me feed you." The doctor's voice dripped with mockery as he smiled wider.

Alicarde's lip curled in disgust. "Release me and I'll eat on my own," he snapped, already on edge about the thought of being spoon-fed by the deranged old man.

'The hell is wrong with this nut job,' he thought, his frustration building. 'As if being strapped to this thing isn't bad enough.'

The doctor chuckled, shaking his head slowly. "No, no. We are friends now, Alicarde. I'll spoon-feed you myself. We have a dream, after all... we'll do it for Helen."

The mention of the name didn't help. Alicarde's irritation was barely contained now, his jaw clenched tight. 'This deranged fool isn't falling for it. I don't have time to win his trust...'

"No, I don't want that. Let me out," Alicarde demanded, his voice colder.

"Hmmm, I can't do that just yet," the doctor replied, suspicion lurking behind his eyes as he studied Alicarde's face, searching for hidden intent.

"Now, now, don't resist." The doctor's grin widened as he pressed a button. The glass of the capsule slid open with a soft hiss, and the doctor leaned in closer.

He picked up a fork, carefully scooping up a small portion of food before bringing it to Alicarde's lips.

"I said I can—" Alicarde's words were cut off as the doctor forcefully shoved the food into his mouth. The taste was vile, bitter and metallic, and Alicarde's mind swam in a haze almost immediately.

Everything after that was a blur—his vision blurred, his body numb. He felt defiled on so many levels after being force-fed by the old man, a deep sense of degradation settling in.

When the doctor finally left, his footsteps fading away, Alicarde was left feeling more humiliated than ever. He stared at the ceiling, dazed, his thoughts spiraling. 'I just got spoon-fed by an... an old man.'

His patience shattered entirely. 'Enough of this. That was the final straw. Shred me? Fine. I was unconscious anyway.

Drug me? Still fine. Use some super elixir on me? Whatever. But spoon-fed by an old man? Unforgivable, deplorable, retributional.'

The more he thought about it, the more his anger festered. 'Suffering I can accept, but my dignity? Never... never... There had to be a hot nurse here somewhere... unforgivable.'

He took a deep breath, his anger now smoldering into resolve. 'Time to risk it all. Wrath coming out was inevitable anyway... it's either now or never. I am done feeling sorry for myself.'

He knew releasing Wrath, his demonic steed, was dangerous. The creature would come after him, driven by its own savage anger, but it would have to break the capsules first. And if it succeeded, it would tear him to shreds.

Yet, Alicarde hoped that in the process of being ripped apart, he would regenerate out of his restraints. It was a gamble—a risky, excruciatingly painful one—but it was his only shot at freedom.

'This is going to hurt... a lot.'

He mentally listed the pros and cons. 'Wrath will break me free, and in the chaos, it'll be seen as my ally by the doctor and his chimera minions. They'll fight, and I'll get the hell away.'

His muscles tensed as he mulled over his decision, the familiar rush of adrenaline coursing through him.

The sound of blaring alarms pierced through his haze of pain, the noise deafening and disorienting. Warth, relentless as ever, poised itself for a another, devastating blow. Alicarde stared at the three obsidian horns gleaming menacingly as the bicorn lunged forward, ready to tear him apart.

But Alicarde wasn't ready to give in. Not today.

'Not today, you bastard,' he thought through the agony, his rage igniting something deep within him. 'Not today.'

He stood up, trying to put distance between himself and the chaos as he found his body defying gravity, floating helplessly against his will. Alicarde desperately tried to control the sensation, attempting to force his feet back to the ground, but he wasn't quick enough.

Wrath moved, the dark steed's hooves rumbling against the ground as astral winds swirled around its form. It struck him like a supersonic flyer, the impact shattering his bones, which were blown from his body in an instant. Agony washed over him, his blood soaking the sterile floor as he gritted his teeth, barely able to contain the searing pain.

Suddenly, the vaulted doors burst open. Three grotesque chimeras charged in, their twisted forms snarling as they spread out across the room. Behind them came the doctor, his face contorted in a crazed rage.

"You betrayed me, Alicarde!" the doctor screamed, spit flying from his mouth. "After everything, you still betray me! We had a thing... why, why, whyyyy? We were going to do it for Helen!" His voice cracked with unhinged hysteria.

"Shut up!" Alicarde growled through clenched teeth, forcing himself to ignore the pain. He had to focus. He spotted his sword lying just a few feet away, but Warth was already closing in. Desperation surged through him as he rushed toward it, his mind racing.

"Stop them! Stop them both!" the doctor shrieked, misinterpreting the chaos as something he could still control.

Alicarde gritted his teeth, dodging through the growing carnage.

'Just as I predicted. Guess lady luck is on my side.' He wasn't out of the woods yet, though. The chimeras lunged at Warth, their grotesque forms clashing violently against the dark steed. Warth retaliated with a ferocity unmatched, tearing through them with savage force. Alicarde rolled, narrowly avoiding the madness, and grabbed his sword.

Just as he tried to stand, the weightless sensation returned, and he found himself floating again, as though gravity had simply ceased to exist. He struggled, his body twisting in mid-air, wishing he was heavy again. His wish was granted, and he plummeted headfirst to the ground, crashing into the sterile floor and leaving a deep, circular dent.

'This isn't some external force,' he realized, 'this is coming from me. So this is my innate ability. I can't control it... no time to revel in how cool superpowers are. Gotta go.'

With this newfound power surging within him, Alicarde felt a moment of awe, but there was no time to admire the spectacle. He was still caught in the chaotic battle between Wrath and the hideous chimeras, their powerful blows shaking the entire room.

'Should I be grateful or angry? The doctor did mention something about his elixir... but for now, I need to escape.'

Wrath was busy tearing into the chimeras, their monstrous forms more daunting than Alicarde could handle in his current state. The doctor, still clinging to some shred of control, rushed over to a nearby computer and began furiously tapping away. More chimeras were released from their capsules, their snarls echoing in the cold, sterile lab.

"You think you can escape?" the doctor screamed, tears now welling in his eyes. "You won't get far!"

Alicarde didn't care about his words. He had one goal, get out of this hell. Turning toward the doors, he bolted. The doctor, in a last-ditch effort, tried to stop him, conjuring a magic circle in his hand and aiming to unleash a spell. But Alicarde was quicker, grabbing the doctor by the coat and throwing him into the air. Despite his weakened state, Alicarde was still too strong.

The doctor was flung toward the ongoing battle, narrowly avoiding a direct hit from the chimeras and Wrath. Still, he was grazed by the fury of the fight, slamming into a broken capsule. He lay bleeding and unconscious, slumped against the shattered glass.

Alicarde glanced at him briefly. He didn't care if the doctor survived, his mind had already set itself on the cold-blooded path of vengeance. Zagarath was all that mattered now. One death more or less wouldn't change anything. Still, a small part of him whispered.

'Although I hope you survive, Victor.'

Contradictions swirled within Alicarde. Despite the doctor's actions, something told him the man wasn't purely evil—not like the monsters Alicarde had faced before. But there was no time for reflection. He had to escape.

Alicarde fled into the hallway, his footsteps echoing as he ran. He wasn't as worried about the chimeras now—Warth was more terrifying. The thought of being caught by that beast was far more concerning than the creatures the doctor had unleashed.

'I need to get out of here,' he thought, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

'This place is a death trap.'

Behind him, the sound of battle raged on. Warth was tearing through the chimeras with unstoppable fury. The alarms continued to blare, red lights flashing across the white walls, casting a sickly, ominous glow over the facility. Alicarde's heart pounded in his chest, his mind racing as he searched for an exit, hoping to find a way out before it was too late.