Talk

“Why are you doing this?” Eris calls out, her voice wavering in the howling wind.

Balzac looks at her with a mix of disdain and pity. “Stalling for time, are we? No matter, meat tastes so much better marinated in fear.”

He gives a glance at the train carriages and Eris can physically sense how the occupants flinch as his cruel gaze sweeps over them. “I’ll answer your question with a question of my own. Do you ask a lion why he eats the antelope? Do you spare a thought for how the meat ends up in your dish?”

When Eris doesn’t reply, he bellows, “It’s simple. I am a predator and you are my prey. The Demon Lord has so kindly given me a rich hunting ground to feast upon. All he asks in exchange is for the occasional destruction of these train tracks. It’s paradise on earth!” A mad light dances in the yeti’s eyes as he gloats.

“Someone will stop you!” Eris tries to sound brave but all she can come up with is empty platitudes.

“And it won’t be you. Now, where shall I begin my rampage?” The yeti strides towards the train as shrieks of fear resound from within.

The redhead sinks to her knees in despair. How could she call herself a hero?

Then, she feels a hand on her shoulder. “Thanks for buying us time to recover, girl.”

Eris looks up into the grim face of a Royal Guard as he says, “We’ll stop him.”

Eris wants to say something. Anything. To stop the men from marching to their deaths. But she realizes there’s nothing she can do. She sees it in his eyes. They know they will die. But they’re willing to fight to their last breath. She averts her eyes as shouts and roars ring out until finally everything falls silent.

Quivering, she creaks open an eyelid to a scene of carnage. Bodies of the Royal Guard litter the battlefield, contorted in ways that no human could ever bend. Amidst the field of corpses, Balzac stands, nary a scratch on him.

“Pathetic.” He spits.

Just then, in the distance, a large patrol of snow bikes can be seen speeding towards the battlefield, carrying countless soldiers atop them.

“Hmph. It seems they did manage to stall long enough. If you do not want their sacrifices to be in vain, come face me when you’re ready, hero. I’ll be waiting.” Balzac shakes his head in disappointment before bounding away into the distance, fading into the snow.