Animator vs Animation: The Dark Web

Chapter 9: The Virus

Lace nodded, but then her focus grew. She leaned forward, and her expression immediately hardened, pointing her hand towards the ruined streets. Lace deliberately warned them of something that was roaming—virus monsters, terrifying virus monsters, wreaking havoc on her home. From The Dark Web's Graybirds, Morris Worms, and Trojan Horses, there was a species that currently lingered. Eidolon.exe.

The Chosen One tilted his head, visibly bewildered. Monsters? Virus monsters? He exchanged a stunned glance at The Second Coming. Lace nodded, confirming its existence. As she mimicked her hands in claw-like movements, she described the danger; eidolon.exe were bloodthirsty beings, bringing ruin to her home, lurking around in the shadows. They were even smart creatures, for their attacks are ruthless yet damaging.

She even mentioned how many viruses, even these eidolon.exe, don't even show themselves, making them a rare encounter, but now... they're everywhere. She didn't know where the other townspeople were; went into hiding just like her, or fled, or... gone entirely.

The Chosen One's gaze peeked to the streets, only to find that it was still empty. Now a little impatient, he wondered why Lace was talking to them in the first place. That was when she finally came to the part that she was awaiting to tell them.

Lace urged a warning to the three, her posture stiffening. She pointed out to the streets once again and gestured repeatedly–a hand slicing through the air, a shaking head, then acted as a desperate, wounded figure. If they ever find a figure out in the open, they must not trust them. Eidolon.exe mimics their last eaten prey, from their appearance and to even their last moments before their fate, to draw in any unsuspecting figures, and soon the eidolon repeats the cycle.

It didn't matter if they met anyone who looked lost, injured, or even on the brink of deletion. An ounce of trust, Lace urged, would be a leading point to their deaths.

Valhalla's expression hardened at her warning, while the two hollowheads shared concern. The two faced artificial viruses before; The Dark Lord's Virabots. But natural virus monsters? It was different, unpredictable, even The Chosen One had never heard anything of it. Lace's trust was fleeting, yet she seemed to rest her remaining trust on Valhalla, relying on him to keep their group safe. Valhalla nodded lightly, acknowledging to keep her promise.

There was a brief pause before The Chosen One sprung up to his feet, signalling for the three's departure. Lace nodded slightly, but remained cautious for their safety. Just when they leapt over the wall of rubble and waved quiet goodbyes at Lace, they departed into the ruined streets.

The further they explored, the more the town seemed to crumble into desolation. The building's walls were cracked and open that revealed the inside, various debris of paper and concrete were scattered, and the heavy dust in the air made the group cover their faces. The Chosen One gazed on the ground once more, noticing more of the large erratic footprints from before. But there was a new pattern of footprints; smaller, panicked ones, the same size of his own. Studying them, he presumed that those monsters must've attacked a stick figure—he felt a knot twist in his stomach. The horror that mortal might've witnessed–their last moments before the monster takes their life away and takes their appearance. The Chosen One forced himself to not picture the scene.

Just then, a sound was heard from behind. A scuffling like something was getting dragged on the floor—footsteps.

The group sharply turned around, their breaths hitched. Coming out from the haze of dust, there emerged a figure. It was a dark green figure, clutching on the wound that dug in their arm. They staggered, shoulders heavily slumped, yet their head lifted and their wounded arm weakly flailed at them, pleading for desperate help.