Rise of the Super War God

Chapter 6: The Head at Your Waist

The morning sun didn’t bother hiding its cruelty. It blazed white-hot across the pale sky, hammering the desert below. Waves of heat shimmered off the dunes, twisting the sand into a restless, golden ocean. The wind whispered nothing but silence, carrying only the faint hiss of grains rubbing against one another. The world felt like it had stopped breathing.

Kael Ardyn trudged forward, each step heavier than the last. His boots sank deep into the loose sand, and the sun pressed down on his back like molten iron. Sweat mixed with dust, stinging his eyes, roughening his face like sandpaper. Time didn’t exist here. Hours? Days? Who could say? The desert had swallowed it all.

He wasn’t thinking. Thinking hurt. And then, just when the silence seemed unbearable, a voice cut through the heat—thin, rasping, but calm in a way that made the hair on his neck stand up.

“Let’s go, boy. First, take me to my crashed escape pod. I need a few things. You’ll have to carry me. I’m old, and my legs don’t work like they used to.”

Kael froze. His heart skipped. The voice—soft yet commanding—floated across the dunes. Slowly, he turned.

There, half-buried in sand, was something impossible.

A head. Just a head. No torso, no limbs—only a grotesque, leathery skull the size of a melon. Six slick, tentacle-like limbs sprouted from its neck, moving with precise, deliberate motions. They dragged the head across the sand, leaving twisted, strange tracks behind.

Kael’s throat went dry. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he muttered. “You… talk?”

“Of course I talk,” the head snapped. “Now stop gaping and do as I said.”

His eyes widened. The skin was wrinkled and scarred, patterned with burn-like marks, but the eyes—bright, intelligent—were disturbingly alive. “You… want me to carry you?” he asked cautiously. “You just dragged yourself across half the desert. Doesn’t exactly scream helpless.”

“Do I look like I enjoy this?” rasped the head. “My energy is limited. Yours isn’t. Pick me up.”

Kael barked a laugh, half-crazed. “Sure. Why not? Talking heads asking for rides. Must be the heat.”

The tentacles twitched, irritated. “Take your filthy hands off me before I lose patience! And manners, boy—never touch a lady’s head without permission.”

“Lady?” Kael’s eyebrows shot up. “You’re a—never mind. Fine. Miss Head, what exactly are you?”

The eyes narrowed. “Granny Stitch. Use the name properly. I am more than flesh. Wisdom, thought, will—that is life, not appearances. Remember that, boy, before ignorance gets you killed.”

Kael exhaled. “Granny Stitch. Got it.” He narrowed his eyes. “You mentioned an escape pod. You were here before me? What happened?”

“I was fleeing,” she said simply. “The Voidspawn came faster than expected. My host body was destroyed. This… is all that remains.”

Kael’s stomach churned. “Host body? You mean… Do you possess others?”

The tentacles rippled. “Did. Once. The Voidspawn tore my organic systems apart before I escaped. I cannot parasitize now. If I could, your body would already be mine.”

“Comforting,” Kael muttered, rubbing his neck. “So… what now?”

“Carry me. My crash pod has supplies and a communicator. Both are necessary for your survival.”

Every instinct screamed no, but the horizon offered nothing but sand. He crouched. “Fine. But stay at my waist. If you twitch near my head—”

Before he finished, the six tentacles shot forward, blindingly fast. They coiled around him—two around his waist, one on his shoulder, one gripping his belt, one sliding down his leg, one lightly around his neck. Cold. Wet. Like a corpse.

“Hey! Watch the neck!”

“It’s insurance,” she said calmly. “Endanger me, and I tighten it. Your corpse will keep the Voidspawn busy while I escape.”

Kael stared. “You’re joking.”

“Try me.”

He groaned. “Great. My travel buddy’s a homicidal octopus grandma.”

“I heard that,” she snapped. “Stop whining. You’re lucky I don’t ride on your shoulders.”

They moved again. Sand hissed beneath Kael’s boots. The heat pressed down. Hours passed in silence, broken only by Granny Stitch’s clipped directions.

“Left. Toward the ridge. Shade before the cliffs.”

“Bossy little parasite,” Kael muttered.

“I heard that too,” she replied.

Every so often, he found himself staring at her. Scars, burn marks, faint pulses beneath leathery skin—there was intelligence there, hints of power, a past life.

After a long stretch, she spoke quietly. “You remind me of someone.”

“Who?” Kael asked.

“Lyndric Fayne,” she said softly.

The name landed like a whisper from another era. “The hero of the Zerg Wars? Disappeared years ago.”

“Not disappeared,” she murmured. “Transformed. Whether he remains human… I cannot say.”

Kael shivered. “You… taught him?”

“I created him,” she said bitterly. “My finest work. My greatest mistake.”

The sun dipped low, painting the dunes molten red. A ridge rose like the spine of a buried beast.

“There,” Granny Stitch said. “At the base of that ridge—a cave. Shelter before nightfall. Move.”

Kael groaned. “Not ominous at all.”

“Faster.”

Exhausted, boots slipping in the cooling sand, he tried distraction. “My father once told a story—two crash survivors, stranded five years before rescue. They even had a kid. Miracle story.”

“How touching,” Granny Stitch muttered.

“Except for my luck, rescue comes five years later, finds me with two heads. One old, one small. Both tentacled.”

“Your imagination is revolting. Focus.”

The ridge neared. Suns dipped below the horizon. Shadows stretched like claws. A dark opening yawned—a cave mouth.

“You sure this is safe?” Kael whispered.

“As safe as anything gets,” she said.

Inside, the air cooled. Walls glistened with veins of faintly glowing blue crystal. Steps echoed, swallowed by darkness.

“Ever feel something’s watching?” Kael asked.

“Always,” she whispered. “But this place isn’t watching. It’s listening.”

A ripple ran beneath the stone. Kael’s pulse jumped.

“Tell me that’s the wind,” he muttered.

“Run,” she said softly.

“What?”

“Run, you fool!”

He didn’t hesitate. He sprinted deeper, lungs burning, heart hammering. Behind him, a dragging, wet sound followed. Massive limbs brushed the walls, bioluminescent chitin glowing. The stench of decay filled the air.

“Do not stop,” Granny Stitch hissed. “It’s a dreamer.”

“A what?”

“A Voidspawn that sleeps and hunts in dreams. If it wakes—”

Dust rained from above. Kael stumbled, barely keeping balance as the tunnel trembled. He ran until silence returned, collapsing against a cold wall, gasping.

“That was close,” Granny Stitch murmured.

“What was that?”

“A dreamer. Pray you never meet one awake.”

The ground trembled again. A low rumble, like the planet itself breathing. This time beneath them. Before Kael could react, the earth exhaled—a slow, living pulse shaking the cave.

Kael’s eyes widened. “We have to reach the cave before dark or we’ll be eaten. How far? Why didn’t you say sooner?”

Tentacles tightened. “Stop whining. Walk. Over twenty cosmic hours until nightfall.”

“Twenty cosmic hours?!” he wheezed. “You should’ve said!”

“Maybe if you listened instead of whining,” she snapped.

He rubbed his aching legs. “Fine. How far?”

“Keep moving. My crash pod is ahead. The swarm struck instantly. My squad died holding them off. I left flesh cells below as fuel, launched, activated my beacon—hoping my disciple would rescue me… instead, you.”

Kael collapsed in the sand. “Twenty hours to a cave that might not exist? Forget it.”

“You ungrateful brat! Get up! Stop, and you die. When night falls, the Voidspawn will find you in seconds.”

He groaned, mind clouded by exhaustion. Tentacles tightened. Pain. Panic. Release. Kneeling, gasping.

“You don’t listen otherwise,” she said. “Move. Don’t stop. Or I’ll finish what I started. The Voidspawn don’t rely on sight—they sense heat. Bury yourself fully or you’re dinner.”

Hours blurred. Sweat drenched him. Every thought of stopping was met with a tentacle reminder.

Then, a flicker on the horizon: jagged gray peaks. Mountains.

“Mountains…” he whispered. “There! I see them! Granny, do you—”

“I see them,” she said softly.

He stumbled forward, running again, sand spraying behind.

“Good. Let’s see if you survive long enough to reach them,” she said, calm, amused.

Beneath the sand, the world felt alive, hungry. For the first time since landing, Kael felt a flicker of hope. He would make it. He had to.