[Hogun pov]
The clouds finally broke, letting sunlight pour down over the broken field. Rhodes Island operators scrambled away, shouting orders—some dragging the wounded, others looking like they were about to fall over themselves.
I didn't care. I only had eyes for the firestorm heading straight toward me.
I've waited for this moment.
Ever since my so-called friends spoiled Arknights for me, I've had one question burning in my mind. I didn't believe them. Couldn't believe them. Not until I saw it with my own eyes.
Talulah.
That dragon girl—they say she's carrying something inside her. No, someone. A freak. A parasite. A twisted excuse for a man leeching off her soul like a tick. A pedo, they called him.
I want to see if that's true.
I want to see if this world's healing strain, the one that might cure that hellspawn rock-cancer called Oripathy, can purge something like him.
I clench my fists as fire rains down. This isn't about survival anymore.
It's about truth.
I took a deep breath, the heat from Talulah's flames licking the ground around us.
And then I screamed—with every ounce of fury and righteous confusion I had left in my soul.
[Hogun]: You pedo man who dresses like a girl! Too bad you've got nothing left to swing!
The world seemed to freeze.
James, standing just to my left, slipped on a spent bullet casing and hit the ground like a bag of bricks. He didn't get up—just lay there, staring at the sky, whispering, "Why… why did I hear that out loud?"
Logan? That bastard started dancing. Full-on, arms-in-the-air, war-crime-level hip movement. He turned to Mastiff, who silently handed him a thick wad of cash. Logan kissed it.
Shadowy13 didn't say a word. He just adjusted his scope and scanned the enemy camp. His silence was louder than my scream. Even the enemy leaders across the battlefield paused, glancing at each other, trying to process what they had just heard.
And Talulah?
Oh, she heard me.
Her firestorm stopped mid-flow, her golden eyes locking onto mine.
A storm was coming, and I just threw the first lightning bolt.
Confusion swept the war-torn street like a bad smell. Guns lowered. Operators paused mid-evac. Even Rhodes Island's medical drones hovered awkwardly in the air, unsure whether to continue scanning or just quietly shut down out of secondhand embarrassment.
People looked at one another, squinting, frowning, whispering:
"What did he say?"
"Did he just call her a—?"
"Is that canon?"
Then James broke the silence, groaning as he picked himself off the ground, dust and cracked pride clinging to him like shame.
[James]: General… did you sniff drugs with the Red Khan again? Or did you drink one of the Pirate Queen's glowing brews? Or—Gods forbid—did Miss Hast give you another one of her 'experimental reality-stabilizing mood pills?'
I didn't blink.
[Hogun]: James… you've been disappointing me a lot today. That girl—Talulah—she's got two souls. Two! One of 'em's hers, sure. The other one?
I jabbed a finger toward the storm of fire curling in the sky.
[Hogun]: The other one's that freakish sicko from the old world. The 'patron saint of trauma flashbacks.' The same one that smiles like a tax audit and talks like a bad fanfic villain. Don't ask how I know—I've seen things.
James looked like he wanted to melt into the ground. He didn't know whether to salute, run, or fake a seizure.
Somewhere behind them, Logan was still dancing. Shadowy13 muttered, "Target locked," as he continued watching the enemy leaders try to physically comprehend what was just shouted across the battlefield.
Then—
Talulah took a step forward.
So did I.
I broke into a sprint, my katana trailing embers, the blade howling with heat as dragonfire surged through it. Her flames rose to meet mine—white-hot, elegant, and ancient. When they collided, the explosion cracked the sky.
We clashed, steel screaming, fire devouring the ground under us. Every strike shook the battlefield—no one dared interrupt.
Not when two monsters were dancing.
[Hogun]: So, Black Snake…
I grinned as our blades locked, fire clashing between us.
[Hogun]: How does it feel to be di#kless and trapped in the body of a teenage girl, you freakish pedo man who talks like a dude that's got the IQ of a rotting sponge in The Room?
Talulah's eyes flared—no, not just hers. His. The one buried inside. That other presence stirred.
And for the first time, he spoke—not with Talulah's voice, but with something colder, deeper… corrupted.
[???]: You dare speak to me that way, insect? I am the wisdom of the ages. The flame of rebirth. The—
[Hogun]: You're a glorified leech with delusions of grandeur and a tragic backstory that even bad soap operas would reject. You talk like you swallowed a thesaurus and choked on your own ego.
Talulah snarled. Or was it him?
Either way, the battlefield trembled. Her next strike nearly took my arm off—but I laughed anyway.
Because this wasn't just a fight.
This was a reckoning.
And I was dragging that sick freak out of the shadows—one insult and one swing at a time.
[Hogun]: No matter how much of a freakish man you are, you're still a man—so take this!
I spun, aimed, and delivered a flaming kick straight between the legs.
CRACK.
There was a moment of divine silence.
...Then realization hit.
Talulah didn't flinch.
Not even a wince.
Just a cold, slow blink.
I paused mid-kick recoil.
[Hogun]: ...Oh. Right. She's a girl.
I scratched my head.
[Hogun]: But hey—I believe in gender equality, so consider that a universal kick of justice!
The consequences hit harder than my kick.
James collapsed with a faint thud, muttering something about needing therapy.
Logan? Flat on the ground, laughing so hard he was choking.
Mastiff calmly reached into Logan's wallet and took a bill with a smile that screamed, 'I told you he'd do it.'
Shadowy13 had a sniper still aimed—but now he pulled out a weathered notebook titled "Reports on Hogun's Questionable Tactics" and began scribbling.
Meanwhile, my entire unit of elite soldiers—men and women forged in blood and steel—looked at me like I'd just punched God in the face with a clown shoe.
And then… from the enemy's line…
FrostNova, elegant as a snowflake and twice as deadly, whispered in shock:
[FrostNova]: …Did he just…?
W lowered her rifle slightly.
[W]: Yup. He really did. I kinda respect it. Zero self-preservation, full send.
Mephisto actually gasped.
[Mephisto]: You can't just do that to Talulah! She's got... inner trauma!
Patriot didn't move, but I swear I heard him sigh under his mask like a disappointed father watching his idiot son get kicked out of a war.
Talulah—or whatever was controlling her—looked at me now with a different kind of fire. No fury. Just confusion.
[Talulah / Black Snake]: …You kicked me in the groin and expected results.
[Hogun]: Listen, you got snake energy, so I figured maybe you packed venom down there.
I readied my sword again, grinning like the madman I was.
[Hogun]: Now let's get back to it. I'm not done slaying dragons or breaking whatever's left of your pride, freakshow.
I thanked fast and used another move.
[Hogun]: This time... take my—SOUL KICK!
I leapt into the air, flames roaring up my leg like the wrath of every anime protagonist who ever lost their dog, mom, or lunch money. My eyes gleamed. My soul burned. This kick wasn't powered by mana or muscles—it was powered by pure, distilled disrespect.
WHAM!
The impact echoed like a thunderclap from God's own foot. The moment my foot landed—
Talulah screamed.
A real scream. Not a growl, not a battle cry—no, this was a "my-soul-just-got-kicked-out-of-my-body-and-is-now-calling-a-therapist" kind of scream.
[Talulah / Black Snake]: WHAAAH—WHAT THE HELL DID YOU KICK?!
Everyone froze.
James covered his ears.
Logan stopped laughing and started praying.
Mastiff dropped the money and backed away slowly like he had just seen a cursed relic get activated.
Shadowy13's sniper scope fogged up from pure disbelief. His notebook? Now had a page titled:
"Chapter 7: Soul Anatomy is Real?"
On the enemy side:
W was physically holding back laughter.
[W]: He kicked her in the soul. That's new. That's... so stupid it's revolutionary.
FrostNova blinked.
[FrostNova]: ...I think her soul actually left her body for a second.
Mephisto looked like he had just witnessed a war crime committed against metaphysics.
Patriot slowly turned to Talulah's group and muttered something in Ursus.
Meanwhile, Talulah stumbled back, eyes wide, aura flickering erratically like a fire that couldn't decide if it was mad or embarrassed.
[Talulah / Black Snake]: You... you kicked my soul... You kicked my soul.
[Hogun]: I aim to cleanse corruption. Physically. Spiritually. Boot-first.
A pause.
Then, I pointed my blade.
[Hogun]: Round three? Or are you gonna need a soul ice pack, you freaky snake-soul-demon-hitchhiker thing?
As the battlefield recovered from the soul-kick heard across dimensions, the rest of the squad surged forward—not to win, not for glory—but to try and forget what they just witnessed.
[James]: I'VE SEEN TOO MUCH! TIME TO UNSEE IT WITH VIOLENCE! I need to bleach my brain. Mephisto, you'll do.
He charged like a storm, grabbing Mephisto mid-sentence and straight-up yeeted him into Faust's sniper line.
[Mephisto]: Faust! He's using me as a—
[BANG!]
The shot deflects at the last second. Faust's hands tremble.
[Faust]: Damn you... I can't shoot him while he's holding Mephisto like a sack of regret!
Skullshatterer rushes James from behind, but James just spins Mephisto around like a riot shield, using him to block the hammer swing.
[James]: You're not a tank, Mephisto, but today? You're my trauma sponge!
Faust dove to the side just in time for Mephisto to bonk into him like a psychic piñata, knocking them both into a pile of overly dramatic violins and trust issues.
Mastiff cracked his neck and stepped up to the mountain of muscle and despair that was Patriot.
[Mastiff]: Big man. Bigger ego. Let's see if you can take a punch from someone who didn't bring a shield because he IS the shield.
They clashed like two freight trains mid-rant. Patriot's axe roared with Ursus fury, but Mastiff caught it with his bare hand.
[Patriot]: Impossible.
[Mastiff]: You're not the only one whose country's in shambles, buddy.
He headbutted Patriot so hard that even the snow stopped falling in fear.
After that, Mastiff Dual-welded his oversized hammers. One says "Tax Evasion", the other "Emotional Damage."
[Patriot]: You are brave… and foolish.
[Mastiff]: I'm both! Now say hello to the IRS of pain!
They clash. The impact causes shockwaves that knock trees flat and briefly realign the moon.
Logan, meanwhile, rolled into the fray like a one-man warcrime. His custom flame-thrower arms hissed with heat.
[Logan]: FROSTNOVA! ICE TO MEET YOU!
[FrostNova]: Really?
[Logan]: No. But this fire is very real.
FrostNova's cold aura surged, snow swirling to meet Logan's flames in a dramatic anime-style clash of elements. The air sizzled and steamed, the battlefield becoming a chaotic sauna of death.
[Logan]: Frost versus Fire, huh? Pretty classic. Too bad I brought INDUSTRIAL-GRADE HEAT!
FrostNova tried to freeze him mid-dash, but Logan slid under the ice with a grin and torched the underside of her robe.
[FrostNova]: *You maniac—this was custom-tailored! You're insane."
[Logan]: I am vengeance. I am the burn that never sleeps. I am the guy who lost a bet and has to kill you to win it back!
In the shadows, Shadowy13 activated stealth mode and engaged both W and Crownslayer, his sniper slung and twin blades drawn.
[Shadowy13]: Two enemies, one shadow. Let's dance.
W twirled a grenade in one hand, raising an eyebrow.
[W]: Oh? A poetic sniper?
Crownslayer blinked.
[Crownslayer]: You talk too much.
[Shadowy13]: You blinked.
BOOM—an explosion and blur of blades erupted. Grenades, shadows, and teleporting slashes painted the chaos with precision and sarcasm.
Shadowy13 took a deep breath, loaded a magazine labeled "Spite Rounds", and kicked the door into psychological warfare.
[W]: You sure you wanna fight me? I've got C4, sarcasm, and trauma.
[Shadowy13]: I've got bullets and no soul left to lose.
He dropped a smoke bomb mid-snark and sniped Crownslayer through it without aiming.
[W]: ...Okay, that was actually hot. You know, most people flirt with dinner or wine. You brought a bullet.
[Shadowy13]: And you're dessert.
They launched into a deadly tango of bombs and bullets, Shadowy13 dodging explosions like he was in an action movie running on pure spite.
He speaks into his comms:
[Shadowy13]: Note: Crownslayer has anger issues. Also, W might be into me. Disturbing.
I looked at all of that and then turned back to Talulah, who was still hunched over.
[Hogun]: Round three coming soon. Right after I write a motivational quote using your screams.
Talulah stared at Hogun, still holding her soul like it needed medical attention.
[Talulah]: You... really brought lunatics.
[Hogun]: I brought soldiers with issues. There's a difference.
The battlefield raged behind me, a symphony of fire, steel, and one very traumatized psychic being used as a melee weapon. But I had no time for that. I walked toward Talulah—no, not her-the squatter inside her. The parasitic soul that wore her like a trench coat of trauma.
She was still hunched, one hand gripping her stomach, the other curled in rage and confusion.
I pulled the Soul Stone from my pocket. It pulsed. Not with light, not with heat, but with judgment.
[Hogun]: Alright, snake. Rent's overdue. Eviction notice: my boot and this shiny rock.
Talulah's eyes flashed with molten anger—not hers, his. The Black Snake.
[Black Snake]: You dare—?! I am the flame! The pyre of the old world! You are nothing!
[Hogun]: I'm the guy who kicked your ego in the soul twice. Let's make it a hat trick.
I slammed the Soul Stone into Talulah's chest.
There was a scream. No, not just from her, but from within her. A howl of ancient, corrupted soul matter being dragged from its stolen shell.
The world went dead silent as the dark mass—the Black Snake's true soul—was halfway out of Talulah's body, writhing and shrieking like a banshee in a blender. Ethereal tendrils flailed, black flame and spectral scales pulsing as the corruption fought back against the pull of the Soul Stone.
And then I did the one thing no dark soul ever expects:
I roundhouse kicked it.
Right between the ethereal legs.
[Black Snake]: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA—!
The scream shattered glass. Literal glass. James' goggles cracked. Logan's flame-throwers sparked and hiccupped. Mephisto fainted in James' arms. Patriot fell to one knee, muttering about honor not being worth this kind of spiritual secondhand pain.
The wailing soul writhed harder, twisting in glitchy arcs like a corrupted video file from hell.
[Hogun]: This is for making her suffer.
I brought the heel down again.
[Hogun]: This one's for sounding like a rejected Shakespeare villain.
WHAM.
[Hogun]: And this one's for talking about flames like a dollar store Dark Souls boss.
WHA-KRAK.
The soul crumpled in slow motion, curling in on itself like a dying flame.
Shadowy13, hiding behind a tree with binoculars, just wrote in his notebook:
"Subject is committing war crimes against metaphysical anatomy. No known precedent. Possibly inventing new martial art: Soul-Fu."
Even W looked mildly impressed.
[W]: Okay, yeah. That's poetic vengeance.
James, meanwhile, just fell to his knees and screamed to the skies:
[James]: I'M NEVER SLEEPING AGAIN! THAT'S NOT EVEN ANATOMICALLY POSSIBLE!
The Black Snake made one final hiss, its form splitting like an overcooked glitch in a horror game—
—before it was sucked violently into the Soul Stone like a cosmic toilet flush.
FWOOMP.
Silence.
Ash drifted down. The battlefield froze. Even the snow paused midair.
And then Logan clapped slowly.
[Logan]: Bro kicked a soul so hard, it re-evaluated its existence.
I turned back, flipping the Soul Stone once, catching it with a snap.
[Hogun]: Sealed. Bagged. And kicked in the pride.
Talulah blinked, her body trembling. Not from pain—no, not anymore—but from the weight that had just vanished like smoke in the wind. Her voice cracked.
[Talulah]: You... kicked it?
I grinned and adjusted my coat. Smoke and ash drifted lazily around us like stage props for a grand finale.
[Hogun]: Three times. For symmetry.
There was a beat of silence.
Then—Shadowy13, ever the voice of grim snark over the comms, muttered with unsettling clarity:
[Shadowy13]: ...I think he just invented soul vasectomy.
I ignored him. Mostly.
I crouched beside Talulah, keeping the Soul Stone close, my eyes locked on hers—her eyes, finally. No flicker of the Snake's madness. Just confusion, exhaustion, and raw humanity.
[Hogun]: Well, now… we can talk, can't we?
She looked at me like someone waking from a decades-long nightmare. Her lips trembled.
[Talulah]: I… I can think again. The silence… It's deafening.
She pressed a hand to her chest. No voice whispering. No hiss. Just the drumbeat of her own heart.
[Talulah]: You really sealed him away?
[Hogun]: He's in a rock, screaming in reverb. Probably monologuing about fire to himself.
[James ]: ASK HER IF SHE'S EVIL STILL! I DON'T TRUST HER EYEBROWS!
[Logan]: James, shut up.
Talulah lowered her head, shame burning in her cheeks. Her voice was small.
[Talulah]: I... hurt so many. I burned cities. I—I was supposed to protect Reunion, not turn it into a weapon.
[Hogun]: You were a puppet. Snake coiled in your spine. I don't blame the blade for what the wielder does.
[Talulah]: But the blade still cut…
There was a long silence, and then I stood, offering her my hand.
[Hogun]: Then let's make sure it never cuts the wrong person again.
She hesitated, then slowly, slowly took my hand. Her grip was weak, but it was hers.
From behind me, I heard Patriot grunt in approval. W was watching from a distance, arms crossed but not aiming a grenade launcher at anyone, which was a good sign.
Shadowy13 whispered again.
[Shadowy13]: Mission success. Soul sealed. Trauma unresolved. Recommend group therapy and snacks.
[Hogun]: Seconded.
[Chapter end]