Steam hissed through rusted pipes as Alan and Phi slipped into the Boiler Room. The air clung to Alan's skin like a wet blanket, thick with the scent of burnt almonds and something rancid beneath.
"This is the only area I haven't fully mapped," Phi whispered, adjusting his sunglasses. "The Beast's nest must be—"
Alan's boot splashed into a puddle of viscous liquid. Not water. Something darker. *Blood?*
They moved past towering generators, their hum vibrating in Alan's teeth. Then he saw it—a massive tank labeled *"Almond Water Reserve"*, its surface shimmering with heat distortion.
"You sure this is a tank?" Alan wiped sweat from his brow. "Looks more like a damn swimming pool."
As he climbed the ladder to inspect it, his foot slipped—
CRASH.
He fell backward—through the wall.
Phi's muffled curse echoed as Alan tumbled into darkness. Cold concrete bit into his palms. *What the—?*
A click. Light flooded the space as Phi stepped through the illusionary wall, holding a flickering lantern.
"Well," Phi said dryly, "we found his lair."
The room stank of iron and rotting meat. Iron bars divided the space into cells, their floors stained with dark patches. A distant scream echoed—then cut off abruptly.
Alan's stomach twisted. *Those aren't stains.*
Phi moved to the nearest cell, his usually steady hands trembling as he unlatched it. Inside, three facelings huddled together—their masks cracked, limbs twisted at unnatural angles. One clutched a rusted spoon like a weapon.
"Team Gamma…" Phi whispered. No response. Their hollow eyes stared through him.
Alan's throat tightened. *What did that monster do to them?*
A wet chuckle rumbled through the chamber.
"Cute attempt." The Beast's voice oozed from the walls themselves. "But you're far too late."
He emerged from the concrete like a nightmare pushing through reality—first the writhing tentacles, then the hulking body, still impeccably dressed in that damned suit.
Phi shoved Alan toward the exit. "Get them out! I'll—"
SNAP.
The Beast's fingers clicked.
The captives burst.
Alan barely registered the wet impact against his face before the screaming started—his own. Blood dripped from his hair, his clothes, his mouth—
Phi's arm hooked around his waist, dragging him backward. "An exploding spell huh? Should've known." His voice was steel wrapped in silk. "Plan B. Now."
They ran as the Beast gave chase, his laughter shaking dust from the ceiling.
"You'll make such lovely decorations!" A blade materialized in his grip—a massive crimson axe that hummed with unnatural energy. "Meet Crimson Tide. She hungers."
Alan risked a glance back. The axe left afterimages in the air, its edge smiling.
Meanwhile - Handy & Rusha
The service elevator doors groaned open, revealing Level 5's oppressive hallway. Handy stepped out first, his cracked mask reflecting the flickering hotel sconces. Rusha followed, her silver scythe already extended from its compact form.
"Something's wrong," Handy muttered, his boot squelching into something wet. He lifted his foot—a Deathmoth carcass, its wings torn clean off.
Then the buzzing started.
From every corridor, air vent, and broken chandelier, they came—a living storm of chitin and needle-like legs. Hundreds. Thousands. The swarm darkened the ceiling like a thunderhead.
Rusha's scythe flashed, cleaving three moths mid-air. "Since when do they gather like this?" Her rabbit mask's painted smile seemed grotesquely appropriate.
Handy crushed one underfoot, black ichor staining his boots. "They're fleeing something." His voice was grim. "Or... *following* something."
A moth the size of a dinner plate dive-bombed Rusha. She pirouetted, her blade slicing it vertically—but not before its stinger grazed her arm. The skin beneath her sleeve immediately purpled.
"Venomous now?!" She hissed, shaking her numb fingers. "This isn't in the manuals!"
Handy grabbed her uninjured arm, yanking her into a linen closet. As he barricaded the door with a dresser, the moths' bodies thudded against it like hail.
"Alan." Handy's mask tilted toward the distant boiler room. "That idiot's done something spectacularly stupid."
Rusha flexed her poisoned arm. "You think he—"
"Provoked The Beast? Absolutely." Handy peered through a crack in the door. The moths were forming a river now, all flowing in one direction. "They're being herded. Like sheep to slaughter."
A tremor shook the floor. Somewhere deep in the hotel, something roared.
Rusha's grip tightened on her scythe. "We need to move. Now."
Handy kicked the dresser aside. "Stay close. And *don't* get stung again."
As they charged into the swarm, a single thought echoed in Handy's mind:
*Please just be alive, you reckless bastard.*
Back at the almond tank, Alan and Phi leapt aside as the Beast's axe embedded itself in the floor.
"Now!" Alan shouted.
Phi kicked—not at the Beast, but at the pipe junction above. Scalding almond water rained down as Alan slammed his palms together.
CRACK-BOOM!
The electric pulse lit up the falling liquid, creating a cage of conducting steam. The Beast howled as currents ripped through him—
—then changed.
Flesh bubbled. Bones cracked. The dapper gentleman suit split apart as midnight-black tentacles erupted from his back, his body swelling to twice its size.
"KRAKEN!" the monster roared, his voice now layered with something older. "You've earned the name, Alan Woods!"
Alan barely dodged the whip-like tentacle that shattered the floor where he'd stood. "Okay, what the fuck—"
"Evolved form," Phi panted, dragging him toward the power station. "Rare. Very bad."*
The generator room hummed with raw voltage. Alan's hair stood on end as Kraken smashed through the wall behind them.
"Phi! The switch!"
As Phi hit the emergency release, Alan jumped—not away, but onto the main generator, his hands gripping the terminals.
standing before the shuddering generator, Alan could taste the electricity—sharp and metallic on his tongue. The Beast-turned-Kraken loomed behind him, tentacles lashing the walls to rubble.
"Last chance to surrender, cheater!" Kraken roared, his voice warped by his new form.
Alan's hands slammed onto the generator's terminals. "Sorry. I suck at losing."
ZZZZT-KABOOM!
The world turned white.
Phi shielded his eyes as arcs of blue-white energy crawled up Alan's arms like living vines. The boy's back arched—mouth open in a silent scream—as the power station's lights dimmed one by one. The very air vibrated, papers igniting into brief flames before the oxygen itself was stolen by the vortex of energy.
When Alan's feet finally touched the ground again, his eyes were gone—replaced by pulsating white voids.
Flashback after Alan and Phi completed their plan B
The dim glow of Phi's laptop screen cast sharp shadows across his featureless face as he tapped a key with deliberate finality. "Let's assume your Plan B works. The Beast gets electrocuted in the almond water tank. Then what?"
Alan paused, his finger tracing circles in the dust-covered floor. The question hung between them like a guillotine blade.
"He... dies?" Alan ventured weakly.
Phi's sunglasses glinted as he tilted his head. "That squid-faced bastard survived a direct confrontation with Leo Mercer in '17. You think bath time will kill him?"
Alan's fist clenched. A spark jumped between his knuckles—uncontrolled, frustrated. The blue stone in his pocket pulsed warmly, as if responding to his anger. His mind raced back to physics class (the one he'd mostly slept through). Water conducted electricity. Giant tank equals giant conductor. But Phi was right—if the Beast could tank Leo's attacks...
Then it hit him.
"The power station," Alan breathed, eyes widening. "You said there's a main generator here?"
Phi nodded slowly. "Two terawatts of raw voltage. Enough to light up a city."
Alan's grin turned feral. "What if I drink it?"
For the first time since they'd met, Phi's perpetual smirk faltered. His cigarette hovered mid-air, forgotten. "You want to... absorb a power plant."
"I'm already a living taser," Alan countered, flexing his crackling fingers. "The rune stone lets me channel electricity without frying myself. More juice in, more power out, right?"
Phi leaned back, exhaling a slow smoke ring. "So your master plan is to become a thunder god to fight a kraken." A beat. "I respect the sheer audacity."
"Plan C," Alan declared, cracking his neck. "Go big or go home."
"You realize if this goes wrong, you'll explode like a microwaved grape?"
Alan's smile didn't waver. "Better than being squid food."
Present
"Now call me Zeus, stupid squid." Alan smiled.
Kraken paused. "…Cheater."
Alan grinned, sparks dancing between his teeth. "Always cheated when at math class, especially Golden ratio, asshole."