Chương 95: Death Of The Week I

June was woken from his slumber by the sound of a war horn that shook the world. He stood up quickly and felt the earth under him shaking and clambered his way out of his tipi and gazed at the sky in horror as it contorted with rain, thunder, light, wind, tornadoes, and hurricanes all simultaneously spawned. The earth had split open, and lava bubbled up. June looked around and began running to his form of burden that stood idly attached to the caravans.

He ran to the stomach of his shell and climbed in through a slit, and after a moment, his monstrous form billowed smoke as its eyes screamed in gold fumes. He waited a moment for everyone to ready the caravans. Leonard, Silvester, Eren, Ann, Felix, and Felicity climbed onto his monstrous back and grabbed onto a familiar antler, and with a single booming shout from Leonard, June began to sprint with all the force that his form could muster.

A sound resembling cables tearing was ever-present as June exerted his body to the extent that each movement tore muscles and flesh alike; the skin underneath was writhing more than ever. A booming voice jovially spoke from the heavens, breaking through the sounds of doomsday.

"GOOD MORNING GLADIATORS! I BET YOU WERE MISSING MY VOICE ALREADY, BUT FOR THE NEXT FOUR WEEKS YOU'LL KEEP HEARING ME CONSTANTLY." The sides of June's head swelled and popped with blood as the sound of the announcer's voice, paired with his inhuman hearing, violently tore through his being, but regardless of the voice, he kept running. The announcer spoke again.

"IN THE 15 MINUTES OF DOOMSDAY SO FAR, 1500 OF YOU HAVE UNFORTUNATELY PASSED." The announcer cackles like the embodiment of evil.

"BUT, DON'T YOU WORRY YOUR PRETTY SELVES SINCE DOOMSDAY ONLY LASTS 12 HOURS… 12 HOURS PER DAY FOR THE NEXT 6 DAYS, THAT IS!" The annoying cackling continued.

"OH… 13, 000 REMAINING." The cohort of June's back heaved, his breath shot steaming air past him and near them, and his speed bounced them up and down uncontrollably while June single-mindedly sprinted. Tornadoes chased him, Hurricanes turned plains of ground into marshlands, slowing him and the carriage down, and the earth split in his path of running, making him suddenly have to change course. He ran over jagged terrain and lava that burned his fists and hooves.

Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation. The announcer spoke again.

"6 HOURS REMAINING." June's form of burden pathetically heaved like a sickly animal waiting to be put down.

"Six… six… six…" His mind had gone blank, he just started running, how have 6 hours passed? How far has he run? He shook himself out of stupor and realized that he had collapsed to the floor.

'When…when…when…?' He heard the booming voice once again.

"RISE AND SHINE, GLADIATORS! ARE YOU READY FOR DAY 4 OF DOOMSDAY?!" June found himself running again and sounding like a dying animal once again.

'Day…Day…four…four days…days.' He blinked and found himself on the floor once more; his breathing was strangely calm. He heard the booming voice once again.

"GOOD JOB SURVIVORS, ONLY 4 THOUSAND REMAIN! YOU GET ONE DAY'S REST BEFORE THE NEXT WEEK'S EVENT BEGINS!" June couldn't see what was happening; the world was dark.

"What did he mean, the next event starts after a day of rest? It's only been six… Voice…"

'Yep, you're right… It's been a week.'

'Why does it hurt to think?'

'Exhaustion, congratulations, I guess, for running 12 hours a day at full speed for 6 days by yourself. That's quite the feat; I did have to redirect you a few times, though.'

"Where… am I? This isn't the void? Am I blind? No, where is the sound? No, I hear my breathing. What's that pungent smell?'

'You're still in your shell; that stench is you. You didn't exactly install sweat glands on your shell, so it basically turned itself into a Dutch oven.' June tried to sigh but felt a thick, viscous liquid slide out of his mouth.

'Thinking is getting easier….. So I cooked myself alive?'

'….'

'Voice?' A sudden slit of light appeared in front of him, and before he realized, he was face-first on the ground.

'Exhaustion…. right….' His perception of things was choppy; thinking back on his conversation with Voice, June may have been unknowingly replying after long intervals. He remembered hearing of cases of severe exhaustion where memory either gets choppy or unreliable, which was an interesting prospect to experience once again. He suddenly realized he was on a cot in a tent.

'This is like teleportation, but just for me!' June lifted his arm, no matter how damaged it was; his limbs would never betray him with the power of will. His olive skin was charred and black with large pustules forming in clumps.

"Hm... only one eye?" June directed Will into his missing eye and tilted his head to the side, feeling the crusted burns pinch him when he moved, and a pus and slurry of blood leaked out to make space for another eye. June blinked a few times, enjoying proper sight once again, and forced his body up into a sitting position. He whistled using his will, but he had a feeling that even if he had vocal cords, they wouldn't be working now.

He jostled around and took a step on his feet; his innards and flesh were thoroughly cooked, and every moment was a painful existence, but June didn't care. He did some stretches, ignoring the pinching skin, the chafing of his burns against the air, and the pustules popping under small stresses. A flesh-shaper was an existence that lived holding hands with pain. June looked around and enjoyed the privacy of having his own tipi.

June waded over to the tent curtain door and held it shut with his charred hands and called out a passerby to get someone from the cohort… and a change of clothes. After a few minutes, someone came trying to open the tent's curtain door.

"Who is it?" June's voice sounded normal despite looking like a burnt egg. The familiar voice of Silvester chimed in.

"Silvester, I got clothes… and a robe!" June extended a charred hand through the curtain and smelled revulsion and pity from Silvester.

"The robe's alone fine; I need to take a bath."