The Legion: Heartson

Mason had faced a lot of terrifying things in the past 24 hours—assassins, armed soldiers, the Astral of Death itself. But nothing quite prepared him for the absurdity of sprinting through endless hallways with a pack of mutant hyenas hot on his heels. 

As he darted around another corner, dodging a stray piece of rubble, he couldn't help but think that somewhere, somehow, the universe was laughing at him. 

Mason vaulted over a large chunk of debris, twisting just enough mid-air to keep Rachel steady on his back. His mind raced. He needed a plan—something that would take these animals down while keeping Rachel safe. 

And he had to think fast. Victor could arrive any moment, and who knew how many soldiers were right behind him. His body still pulsed with weakness from using the Astral of Death to seal his chest wound.

As he rounded another corner, he skidded to a halt, spinning on his heel as he turned to face the pursuing beasts. Black flames flickered to life in his hands, the dark energy sparking with deadly intent. 

He tightened his grip, his gaze fixed on the first of the creatures as it sprinted toward him, eyes gleaming with that unnatural hunger. Timing his strike perfectly, Mason aimed and brought his fist down in a brutal arc, connecting with the hyena's snout in a burst of dark flame.

The creature yelped, its body crashing to the ground, rolling as it skidded to a halt. For a moment, Mason felt a flicker of hope. Maybe that would buy him some time, maybe—

But then, he watched in horror as the hyena staggered back up, its injuries knitting together in a matter of seconds. The strike that should have shattered bone and left it incapacitated was barely enough to slow it down. His chest tightened as the realization dawned on him: not only was his output with the Astral of Death weaker than he'd anticipated, but these creatures could heal too—just like him.

These things have Astral power too.

The beasts' jagged, unnatural bodies, their speed, their resilience—it all fit. They were more than just ordinary animals; they were imbued with Astral abilities. And in his current state, depleted and weakened, he was severely outmatched.

A cold sweat broke out as he began to turn, ready to flee and rethink his strategy, but before he could even take a step, two more hyenas rounded the corner. Their eyes locked onto him, and without hesitation, they pounced, claws extended, teeth bared, ready to tear him apart.

As Mason ducked and weaved between snapping jaws and lashing claws, his mind raced with questions and the overwhelming realization that he was nearly out of options. But suddenly, a soft voice reached his ear, startling him.

Rachel: … What's going on?

Mason barely dodged another swipe from the nearest hyena, twisting to the side as the creature's claws narrowly missed his arm. His heart leaped for a different reason now as he glanced at Rachel, blushing slightly despite the chaos.

Mason: Oh, nothing much… 

He dodged another lunge, using his shoulder to shove one of the hyenas off course. His sarcastic tone barely masked the strain in his voice as he threw a wild punch, putting as much power as he could muster into his arms. 

Grabbing the nearest hyena, he swung it around and hurled it into the other two, buying them a few precious seconds. Rachel's eyes widened as the creatures stumbled, her gaze flicking between the monstrous beasts and the dark corridors around them.

Rachel: We're in the labyrinth?

Mason: Yeah, I figured that part out.

Rachel: No, no—you don't get it. This part of the facility should've been safe. It was meant for training, security, and storage. The labyrinth isn't heavily monitored, it's supposed to be hard to navigate deliberately. 

Mason's foot slipped slightly as he dodged another attack, regaining his balance just in time to avoid a snapping jaw. He shot her a quick look, frowning.

Mason: What exactly do you mean?

Rachel's eyes darkened as she glanced at the creatures now recovering and stalking toward them again.

Rachel: Obsidian must have sent these things to track us down. They're not just chasing us randomly—they're following our scent. They don't need surveillance; they can just track us wherever we go. And if the soldiers follow them…

Mason's stomach twisted as he punched another creature square in the mouth, only to watch it heal instantly, its snarling grin reappearing as it prepared to lunge once more. He could already feel the exhaustion settling in his musclesr. And as two more hyenas lunged at him, he leaped into the air, narrowly avoiding their claws.

Mason: How can they heal like that? They're astral users right?

Rachel's voice was tense, but her mind was sharp, fitting the pieces together even in the midst of chaos.

Rachel: They're products of the Astral of Death, that's probably how they're healing.

Mason: So if they're using the Astral of Death's power… shouldn't I be able to do something about that?

Rachel shook her head, grimacing.

Rachel: The Astral of Death's soul is split. The power inside these creatures is under the control of the other part. Even I don't know where the other part is, but it's clearly under Obsidian control.

How convenient.

He barely managed to sidestep as one of the hyenas lunged, its jaws snapping inches from his shoulder. He retaliated with a quick punch, but his attacks barely slowed them down, and even when he landed a solid blow, they healed almost instantly.

Mason: So if these things heal with death energy like me, how am I supposed to kill them?

Rachel: Astral abilities only work when the mind, soul, and body are all intact. Destroy any one of those in a single blow, and the Astral can't function. The creature will die.

Mason let out a bitter laugh, glancing at her.

Mason: Easier said than done.

In my current state, I can't manage anything close to that kind of power.

The creatures were circling closer, recovering from their recent blows, their growls growing louder and more menacing. His options were dwindling by the second, and his weakened body was making every movement feel like a monumental effort.

Without any time left to strategize, Mason turned sharply on his heels, his grip on Rachel tightening as he sprinted down another corridor, the creatures hot on their trail. He called over his shoulder.

Mason: New plan. What's it gonna be?

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Mason sprinted through the labyrinth's endless corridors, the pounding of his own footsteps mingling with the echoing growls of the beasts behind him. 

It was insane, utterly reckless. 

Rachel's explanation of the plan—if you could even call it that—felt barely coherent in his mind. It sounded more like a gamble than any real strategy, a vague set of instructions that relied on faith rather than any kind of certainty. But he could hear Granny's words reverberating in his thoughts.

Trust. 

He clenched his jaw, glancing over his shoulder as the creatures surged forward. Rachel was gone now, he had no idea what she planned to do or if she would even survive but. He had no choice. He would have to trust Rachel's plan, as insane as it seemed.

As he rounded one more winding corner, Mason's heart raced as he entered a vast, expansive room. Perfect. This was exactly what he needed. The creatures pursued him, barreling into the open space, their numbers swelling as more wolf-like beasts joined the hyenas. His escape through the labyrinth had drawn them together, forming a pack of snarling, bloodthirsty predators, each one hungry to rip him apart.

But as they filled the room, Mason simply smiled, extending his arms outward, his eyes narrowing as he took in their movements. They charged forward, teeth bared, but stopped just short of lunging, slowing to circle him instead. They moved with a strange caution, watching him, waiting for something.

Rachel was right. 

These things, they're controlled by Obsidian, and Obsidian can't kill me, they just want me captured. So as long as I stay put, they won't do a thing huh. 

The revelation emboldened him. If they were under orders to avoid killing him, he could afford to be a bit more reckless. Closing his eyes, Mason steadied his breath, reaching into the depths of his soul.

You've been awfully quiet lately.

The silence in his mind stretched, but then The Astral of Death's presence flickered, faint and strained, answering with a weary tone that echoed through Mason's consciousness.

Astral of Death: That stunt of yours—healing your wound—it drained us both.

Mason's brow furrowed, a wry smile tugging at his lips as he opened one eye.

Is that even possible? An Astral, dying of exhastion?

The Astral didn't respond, its silence pointed and absolute, as if the question itself were beneath consideration. Mason rolled his eyes, dismissing the lack of response, and focused on his goal.

Alright, fine, keep your secrets. But I need your help. Just tell me—what would it take to control a living being with the Astral of Death?

Another pause. The beasts continued circling him, their movements careful, calculating, as if they, too, sensed the silent exchange happening between Mason and the force within him. Then, with a scoff, The Astral of Death finally broke the silence.

Astral of Death: Even after everything, you think I'd teach you something like that? No. I refuse.

Mason's smile widened, his eyes still closed, the faintest hint of amusement dancing across his face.

That's all I needed to know.

A flicker of confusion pulsed through his mind, the sensation almost tangible as The Astral struggled to understand.

Astral of Death: …?

Mason opened his eyes, casting a glance at the creatures circling him, his confidence solidified.

I just needed confirmation. I don't need to know the exact technique—you've already told me enough to know that it's possible.

The Astral of Death fell silent once more, its presence withdrawing to the far corners of his mind, simmering with an almost begrudging respect. Mason exhaled, his attention turning back to the creatures that surrounded him, their hungry eyes fixed on his every move.

He had what he needed. With this knowledge, he could test his theory, take control of this situation—and these creatures.

Mason took a steadying breath and reached out, placing a hand on the nearest creature—a hulking wolf-like beast with muscles rippling beneath its dark, scarred hide. Closing his eyes, he let his consciousness sink inward, navigating through the flickering tendrils of energy that bound him to The Astral of Death. 

He pushed deeper, honing in on where he sensed the creature's soul, a faint yet pulsing light surrounded by chaotic, tangled threads. This wasn't the same steady, ominous energy of his own Astral; it was twisted, like a shadow of the true power, its form barely holding itself together.

He couldn't waste time dismantling each creature's soul one by one, and even if he tried, his strength wouldn't hold out. But the mind? That could be a different story. He wasn't looking to dominate its will; this creature was already a slave to someone else's will. No, he only needed a suggestion, a small spark of thought to guide its primal instincts.

He concentrated, focusing his energy, and sent a single, clear thought rippling into the creature's consciousness.

A moment later, he felt a faint shift, like the slightest ripple in still water, and he opened his eyes, a smile forming as he turned his back to the creatures. The others immediately sensed his movement, their growls intensifying as they prepared to lunge. But before they could reach him, the wolf-like creature stepped forward, letting out a low snarl.

Protect.

In one fluid motion, it tore into the nearest hyena, its claws slicing through flesh with brutal efficiency, severing the creature's head in a single blow.

Mason watched in fascination, his chest heaving with exhaustion but a hint of pride swelling within him. Success. The wolf, now loyal to his subtle command, moved through the crowd of creatures, tearing them apart with savage intensity. He wasn't sure exactly how he'd managed to plant the thought, but it had worked. He felt his energy draining even more, his head swimming from the mental exertion, but the outcome made it worth it.

Using the precious seconds bought by the wolf's rampage, Mason turned and made his way toward the entryway. Behind him, the loyal beast continued to lash out, slaughtering the creatures that filled the room. 

However, Just as he reached the doorway, a powerful crash echoed through the room.

Mason barely had time to react before a massive figure burst through the nearby wall, sending chunks of debris flying in every direction. The shockwave sent him sprawling backward, the force knocking him onto his back. 

Standing before him was a monstrous figure, a creature straight out of mythology. It was shaped like a bull, but it stood upright, towering above him on two powerful legs, its muscular form radiating a brutal, imposing strength. Its eyes glowed an inky black, filled with a murderous rage, and each breath escaped in heavy, furious snorts that clouded the air like steam.

Mason's heart pounded as he scrambled to his feet, the realization sinking in that he was facing something far beyond the ordinary beasts he'd been dealing with.

Biting his lip, he muttered a curse under his breath, his gaze locked onto the bull-like monstrosity.

Surely this is too cruel, even for you fate.

With his last reserves of strength, Mason steadied himself, preparing to face the new challenger.