The Extra's Rebellion
Chapter 111: Difference between Elpison and Delta

Chapter 111: Difference between Elpison and Delta

The air rippled behind him— just before the crack of stone shattered through Limbo’s silence.

Zephyr dove sideways.

WHAM!

A blur of movement— a massive club, studded with jagged, rust-colored spikes— slammed into the ridge where he’d been a moment ago. The force of the impact tore through the rock like paper, sending shrapnel flying as Zephyr was launched, his body flung through the air like a broken arrow.

He hit the ground hard, tumbling across uneven terrain. His ribs flared with pain. Something cracked.

But he didn’t stop, he couldn’t stop.

He sprang up, coughing, barely registering the taste of blood in his mouth. The creature landed with a sickening thud, its webbed feet cracking the stone again.

The thing was grinning— always grinning.

Now it held the spiked club in both hands, dragging it along the ground with a sharp metallic scrape. Sparks burst from the tips of the spikes. It didn’t rush this time.

It was playing with him.

Zephyr’s muscles tensed, instincts on fire. He could feel the air tightening— pressing against him like invisible walls. His Aether refused to flow properly. Limbo’s flux, the pure spatial Aether was oversaturating his body and it was pinching off his control.

’Focus. Focus, dammit!’.

Then without hesitation, the Omen Eye snapped open at his command, a harsh lavender circle ringed across his eyes. His vision twisted— edges sharpening, the world warping— until he limbo slowed down. Every flicker of movement, every intent was being processed at lighting speed.

But still the frog-thing moved again— too fast.

It leapt forward, and Zephyr saw the arc of the club before it came. Without thinking, he pivoted, sliding under the swing. The club passed inches above his head, but it wasn’t without consequences.

The jugged spikes running across the surface if the club dug into his face, tearing thought the flesh, scrapping bone as it edged towards his eye. But he was able to jump back.

Just as information was super clear, so was the pain. Zephyr’s vision turned white from the sheer pain.

But the creature wasn’t done.

With a guttural shriek, it spun, using the momentum of the missed swing to come around again. Zephyr saw it through his spatial sence, the telegraphed tremor in the shoulder, the twitch of its foot— then rolled forward just before the club came crashing down.

BOOM.

Stone exploded.

The creature was relentless. Another swing— this one vertical. Zephyr raised a quick spatial shield by locking space in front of him—

CRACK!

The club smashed through it, shattering the hardened space like glass and catching Zephyr with the edge of its force. He was flung again, blood gashing out from his injured abdomen, skidding across the ground, coughing blood.

The pain hit him hard, but not as hard as the realization.

He couldn’t fight this thing head-on. Not here. Not in Limbo, not with the Aether flux suppressing his enhanced reaction time and messing with his Aether control.

Even with the Omen Eye, even with his instincts screaming— he was too outmatched. Staying meant death.

He needed to run.

Now.

With a grunt, Zephyr kicked off the stone and bolted. He didn’t wait for the creature’s reaction. He just ran— feet pounding against barren terrain, eyes burning as the Omen Eye fed him flickers of terrain ahead.

The frog-thing shrieked behind him— a broken croak that warped into a horrible, echoing laugh. It gave chase.

Fast. Too fast.

But Zephyr was faster in mind. The omen eye churned to the extent his clear vision was tinted a pale lavender.

He twisted through a rock formation and dropped over an edge, summoning a weak spatial fold to catch his fall— barely stable, but just enough. He hit the surface below in a roll, every joint screaming, every nerve demanding rest.

But there was no rest in Limbo, especially not now.

He could still hear the wet, slapping footfalls behind him. Still feel the grin following him like a second shadow.

He had to leave.

’i would die here’. At this point, Zephyr felt overwhelming regret. If only, if only he had just thought about it, if only he had been smarter, if only he listened to Keal. Then he wouldn’t have been in this mess.

The loud, wet footfalls of the beast faded—abruptly. Too abruptly.

Zephyr’s heart stopped, he knew what that meant.

His Omen Eye spun wildly, overclocked on instinct— and caught it.

Black lines.

Dozens of them, forming midair just ahead. The creature was teleporting. Had teleported.

’Shit—!’.

The lines folded together, and the frog-beast reappeared, mid-swing— its massive, spiked club already arcing through the air.

Limbo— Hollow Breath Transition.

But as expected it didn’t work, Hollow Breath Transition allowed him transfer his entire body to Limbo, leaving behind an hollowed out husk. But this was Limbo, where was he transiting to.

CRRRSHKK!

Pain.

It didn’t register at first— just light, bursting behind his eyes like stars exploding. Then came the real impact.

The jagged spikes tore into his side, punching through flesh, muscle, bone— hooking into him like a net of knives.

"ARRRGH—!"

But the scream never finished.

The force of the strike lifted him, spinning his body like a ragdoll, his arms flailing as he was launched across the broken terrain. Blood splattered in a trailing arc behind him.

He hit the ground hard— bounced once, twice— then skidded, tumbling through dust and shattered rock.

Everything blurred.

His vision flickered. His thoughts scattered. The pain was too great— too total— like he was being burned alive from the inside.

Darkness crept in from the edges of his mind, he was blacking out.

’No’. Zephyr knew that if he lost his consciousness he would not be waking up, but they was little that could be done when he could barely think.

But the Omen Eye flared, violently.

A surge of foreign Aether— pure, cold, clear—blasted through his mind, anchoring his consciousness to the moment. It refused to let him fall.

And then— the pain vanished. Abruptly.

It was as if someone had flipped a switch, the agony receded, pulled out of his body like a tide reversing.

Zephyr’s limbs went cold— then warm. His torn flesh mended. His cracked ribs fused. His shredded abdomen knit together.

The blood on his skin glowed faintly, fading into mist. He’d crossed into another temporal zone, one of those unpredictable zone of time.

And this one... It was reversing time.

Reversing the damage, the pain inflicted on him, Zephyr almost collapsed from the relief.

He exhaled.

But in the next instant—

WHUMP!

The ground trembled as a shadow fell over him. The frog-like beast was there again.

And this time, Zephyr’s Omen Eye caught nothing. Just—pain.

BOOM!

The Frog crashed into him, it’s webbed foot covering the entirely of Zephyr’s back. Even in the healing zone, even with all pain reversed—he felt it.

Flesh collapsed inward. Bone cracked again. His body was pressed down into the stone—buried several inches deep into the ridge.

The beast roared, saliva spraying from its mouth, then slammed it’s foot down again.

BOOM. BOOM. BOOM.

Every time the beast raised his leg, Zephyr body would heal but as soon as the creatures foot crashed on his back again, his body would fold into the ground. The circle repeated itself again and again.

Zephyr coughed blood, trying to raise his scythe, but the beast crushed it underfoot, grinding it against the stone.

His vision flickered just as he lost consciousness, but the next moment he would regain clarity.

Limbo’s reversal zone was keeping him alive, but just barely. It could only rewind so much at once. And the beast—

The beast wasn’t slowing, in fact it looked agitated that it’s prey wasn’t dying.

It grabbed Zephyr by the arm and threw him like a doll.

CRACK!

He struck a jagged cliff face, the impact dislodging stone and sending an avalanche tumbling down around him. His body fell limp in the debris.

The beast stepped forward. Croaking. Chuckling.

Its club dragged behind it again, sparks flying.

And still—Zephyr didn’t move, he couldn’t barely think, his bloodshot screamed only one language— fear. Fear of death.

Zephyr’s body lay crumpled in a slope of broken stone, barely twitching. Bones mended only to break again. His skin, a canvas of blood and broken bone.

He wasn’t breathing right. His chest hitched. Eyes open, but hollow.

That was when the beast reared back, Its knees bent. Its thighs tensed. Webbed toes spread wide against the cliff edge.

Zephyr saw it, his dead eyes widened in horror.

’MOVE!’. Despite the sheer terror, his body didn’t respond.

’MOVE!’. Still nothing.

Then— ’They are going to get you’.

JERK.

His body spasmed, flinched forward, just enough.

BOOOOM!

The beast crashed down from above, club forgotten, both webbed feet stomping toward Zephyr like a divine punishment. The shockwave shattered the rock— stone split and arched backward, sending long vertical cracks screaming across the cliff surface.

Zephyr’s body was launched, limp like a ragdoll, flung by the sheer kinetic horror of the blow.

He didn’t scream this time, because he was already unconscious.

CRACK!

He struck the mountainside again— harder, deeper, but this time, the cliff gave way.

Rock beneath the frog-creature’s feet fractured, then collapsed, sending boulders and slabs of rocks plummeting downward. Zephyr’s body vanished in the avalanche, swallowed by stone and gravity.

A deep rumble echoed through Limbo, but the beast looked down, its ever grin twitching.

Below— an abyss. A vast chasm opened like a gaping wound in the world. Its depths swallowed sound and light alike.

The frog-beast roared, a croak of rage. Then—it leapt.

It clawed at the edge, sliding, catching rock, snapping its claws into stone like anchors. It descended after him, gnashing its teeth, saliva trailing from its wide mouth.

Almost—

It reached down, webbed claws swiping into the void— just barely brushing the heel of Zephyr’s foot.

RRRIP!

It tore the sole of Zephyr’s boot clean off.

But that was all.

The rocks beneath it finally cracked, unable to support the monster’s bulk any longer. The cliffside sheared off, and the beast scrambled back— gripping the upper edge with a strangled, maddened croak. It couldn’t fall too far.

But Zephyr did. Down. Into the dark.