Ah'Ming grinned back.
Not a happy grin. Not even a confident one.
It was the kind of grin that stuck too long, sweet at the edges and rotten in the middle. The kind that promised follow-through. A very nice smile, that screamed in all-caps "I'm gonna mess you up, and I'm gonna enjoy every moment of it."
The grin that he used to show to math teachers, and made them give him higher marks.
He was trying to stall for time so that the other players could catch up. He also kind of didn't want to, though. He wanted to see if he could take down the beast all by himself, just like old times.
"Oh come on," he crooned, voice light, almost playful. "Here, spider-spider~"
The Librarian shuddered (since he often had that effect on women, sad), its many eyes tightening, focusing. Too many of them. Far too many. They blinked out of sync, some vertical, some horizontal, some rotating like they were trying to scan him rather than see him. Really gross.
Honestly. Rude.
It was kind of an insult to spiders to call her one.
Spiders don't deserve this slander, Ah'Ming thought. Respectable creatures. Eight eyes, nice and efficient. Decently normal. Some wiggle room for compound eyes too. Dragonfly models made sense. Elegant, even. Those cousins did tend to hit walls sometimes though. Maybe those eyes didn't work so well.
But this?
Eyes over eight was just wasteful design.
No wonder it looked so stupid.
He rolled his shoulders, claws sliding halfway out, then stopping, indecisive. The urge tugged at him, sharp and familiar. He could feel it under his skin, that old itch. The one that whispered you don't need them. The one that remembered how easy it used to be.
He took a half step forward anyway.
The floor creaked in protest.
"C'mon," he coaxed, tilting his head. "You were doing so well earlier. Big dramatic reveal, scary book, whole 'I was among you the entire time' thing." His grin widened. "Don't tell me you're shy now."
The monster answered with motion.
Its limbs unfolded, too many joints snapping into place, claws digging into the stone as it lunged. Books tore free from the shelves, spinning faster, forming jagged halos that screamed as their pages shredded themselves into blades.
Ah'Ming laughed under his breath. He would have thrown his head back to do the full villain laugh, but there would have been a pretty high chance of getting impaled in the midst of merriment.
Yeah. That's the good stuff.
He danced back just enough to avoid the first swipe, claws raking sparks from the floor as he pivoted. The creature shrieked, sound like pages tearing in a cathedral, and slammed a limb down where he'd been standing a moment before, pulverizing stone and splintering shelves into flying debris.
Habitat destruction, bonus points.
"Careful!" he called. "You're going to lose your deposit!"
A ripple of energy washed over him then, faint but noticeable. A warmth along his spine. Someone behind him finally got their head in the game. A buff, thin and nervous, but real.
Ah'Ming didn't even look back.
"Aw, for little ol' me?" he murmured. "You shouldn't have."
He surged forward.
Claws came out fully this time, ripping through the air, through flying books, through the monster's outer shell. Shadow split and screamed, ichor splattering across the floor and evaporating into smoke. The Librarian reeled, eyes bursting and reforming, limbs slamming wildly, crushing shelves, scattering knowledge like confetti at a funeral. Little black chunks of shiny started creeping up his arms, then his shoulders, locking into a cool sort of armor.
Ah'Ming weaved through all of the slow-slow-slow attacks, laughter sharp and breathless, movements just shy of reckless. He tore. He smashed. He vaulted off collapsing furniture and drove himself into the creature again and again, carving chunks out of it while the rest of the players finally caught up, spells crashing in from the edges, lighting the room in fractured color.
He could feel them now. Their magic. Their fear. Their awe.
He could still do this alone.
He knew he could.
And that knowledge burned brighter than any buff.
"Oh dearie, oh dear! You're going to have to try so much harder if you want to hit me! If only beasts knew how to fight properly!"
The monster was getting really riled up, some of it from not being able to hit him, but mostly from the kinda bad taunts.
"Too many eyes," he told the monster, claws buried deep, close enough to feel the book thrumming inside it. "You really should've budgeted better."
The Librarian screamed again, the sound shaking dust from the ceiling, and wrapped itself around him, crushing shelves into paste as it tried to drag him down with it.
Ah'Ming dug in his heels.
Old instincts snarled awake.
This wasn't over.
Not even close.
...
Ah'Ming moved like a storm made flesh. So like, super badass.
He vaulted off a smashed bookshelf, twisting midair as claws raked across the monster's torso. The Librarian screamed, a sound that shattered lamps and sent pages spinning like snow in a gale, but he didn't flinch. He landed on the floor, skidding just a fraction, and launched himself forward again, slicing through a tangle of limbs and shadow, leaving gouges in stone and splinters in his wake. You know, he'd really kill for a gun. He was still killing though. Maybe he'd get a gun as a kill reward.
Books exploded around him. A cascade of pages cut the air like paper knives. Shelves buckled under the force of his momentum. The monster lunged, swinging a massive, jagged limb that could have crushed a normal person (or most normal people) but Ah'Ming shrugged it off like a pro. He ducked, rolled, and leapt onto the creature's back, claws digging into its spines, shredding shadow tissue with each deliberate pull.
He vaulted over the head of the creature as it lunged for him again, spinning midair, landing on a toppled pillar. One arm ripped free and tore a shadow limb from its socket. He smirked, letting debris and dust spray over him like a personal effect.
Every movement was a statement. Every slash left a mark in the ruined library. Shadows recoiled from him as if they knew instinctively that his hands were death incarnate.
He vaulted through the chaos, spinning around a fallen table, raked both claws forward at once, cutting clean through two shadowed arms and the edge of a shelf, sending wood splinters spraying.
The creature tried to swing again. Too slow! Too predictable! He twisted in the air, striking again and again, each hit punctuated by a wet, echoing shlick, like knives slicing through smoke.
He was untouchable. Stylish. Savage. Suave. Almost entertaining.
And then…
A shout.
"Watch out!"
Ah'Ming froze mid-twist, head snapping toward the sound. It was sharp, human, panicked. Someone. The monster saw its moment to strike too. It recoiled, and in that instant of distraction, one of its limbs hit him.
Impact.
Pain.
Air ripped out of him.
He flew.
Books and debris exploded around him as his body slammed into his so-called "support," sending both of them crashing into a smashed shelf. Splinters jabbed and dust filled their lungs. Dude, who needed enemies with teammates like this?
Ah'Ming groaned, twisted midair slightly, claws scraping stone as he landed hard, the first real hit of the fight, and he realized… for the first time in a long while, he had miscalculated. He blamed the kid. Their fault, not his. Trust.
The Librarian loomed over him.
Ah'Ming rolled his eyes as he landed in a crouch, groaning.
Next to him was the source of the shout. A fluffy-looking college kid, hoodie half-wrinkled, glasses slipping down his nose, and expression somewhere between panic and existential dread. How funny. Can it, kid.
Who knows, maybe he was like a super soldier, about to save the day.
"…Do you have any powers?" Ah'Ming asked, voice flat but carrying the weight of someone who'd just been hit in the face with a library demon. You know, since he did get hit in the face with a library demon.
The kid blinked. Slowly. Carefully. Like he was trying not to get punched. "…I can… summon lollipops?"
Ah'Ming stared. Long enough for the shadows to reconsider their life choices. "…What about a Gundam?" Please, please, please say yes.
The kid didn't say yes.
"In your dreams, dude," the kid said, voice trembling slightly.
Ah'Ming groaned again, rubbing his head. "Figures."
Then the monster decided to remind them who was really in charge.
A massive, shadowed hand, way too big to be human, slammed down toward them, stone cracking under its weight.
Instinct kicked in. He felt kind of like one of those weird American dads who swears by instinct and forces the family to camp out in the woods to prove their manliness.
Ah'Ming shoved the kid sideways. He hit the floor with a soft oof, but alive. The monstrous hand smashed into the spot they had just occupied, sending splinters and stone shards flying like fireworks.
"Seriously, move faster next time!" Ah'Ming called over his shoulder. "Maybe drop a couple pounds! Don't worry, it won't be hard, just lose some of the eyes!"
More people started showing up behind them, finally catching up to the battle. Ah'Ming noticed why the kid had arrived first. Everyone else… well. They were big. Muscley. Tanks, basically. Solid, reliable, but slow as molasses. They lumbered in with heavy footsteps that made the floor tremble, swinging axes, hammers, and shields, and casting defensive spells that lit the room like lightning flashes.
At least they looked like they were help.
The monster swung again, claws snapping toward them, but its attacks were less coordinated now. Ah'Ming had thinned the field, cut off its options.
"Good," he muttered, claws flexing. "Let's make this fun."
The kid nervously twirled a glowing lollipop into the air like it was a magic wand. Ah'Ming smirked. "…That's… adorable, actually. Keep it up."
The kid glared, and made the lollipop even bigger. It looked like a massive hammer now. Ah'Ming could see why it was considered a skill.
The muscley tanks shoved forward, holding the monster at bay just long enough for him to leap back into the fray. Dust, splintered wood, and faint arcs of magic filled the air as he streaked forward again, grinning that sickly, "I'm about to ruin your life" grin.
The Librarian blinked its multitude of eyes, and for the first time, it seemed… nervous.