29.8

Here’s a summary of Chapter 29.8 of Worm, compressed to about 1381 words, maintaining the original style:

The stairwell was buried under massive chunks of concrete and steel, but the high ceiling offered a view of the chamber beyond, illuminated by red emergency lights. Scion was a distant figure, dwarfed by his partner.

The partner filled the vast space, a grotesque yet beautiful entity resembling a mid-eruption volcano, with stone and magma-like flesh reaching immense heights. It was an elemental force, driven by a half-formed idea, like an artist’s sketchpad experimenting with body parts. The individual parts were androgynous, some veering into masculine or feminine, even alien, territories. Yet, there was a softness to them, a gentleness in their positioning.

One hand reached down, offering aid, another was childish and vulnerable, while another still had water running down its fingers, more art than limb. Each piece was beautiful on its own, capable of being combined to create a kind human. But the bigger picture was a jungle of flesh, artificial and out of scale, with a pattern as complex as ocean waves. Flesh connected to flesh, breaking down into core elements, then fractals, and finally into spaces Weaver couldn’t comprehend, as if turning around a non-existent corner.

Sveta, in a sudden movement, wrapped herself around a table, her tendrils lashing out with destructive force. Weaver’s arm, mangled by Sveta’s earlier attack, throbbed with pain. Sveta, speaking to herself, asserted control over her mind and feelings, focusing on building a better future. Her tendrils caught on objects and extinguished Weaver’s swarm with ruthless efficiency.

Sveta launched herself into the stairwell, disappearing into the morass of body parts below. Weaver, rattled by the pain in her arm, activated her flight pack and followed, descending into the vast room. The space was disorienting, her bugs’ trajectories off. A creaking noise, growing worse, signaled danger.

Weaver found the others: Golem, Cuff, Imp, Rachel with an unconscious Canary, and Lung. The Number Man, Alexandria, and the others were in another group. Scion touched his counterpart’s flesh, then rose into the air. Weaver navigated the fractal webs, her swarm helping, but a near-miss with a fractal ‘hedge’ sent her heart pounding.

The notion descended on Weaver that this was the well Tattletale had spoken of. Scion was only the tip of the iceberg, his damage drawing from this well to repair his body. This entity had never established a separate self, independent of the well. Cauldron had fought this thing before and won.

Weaver landed near Lung, her body wracked with pain. Lung monologued about territory, control, and his refusal to follow. He demanded Weaver ask for his help, to show weakness. Weaver, delirious, told him to burn her arm off. He complied, cauterizing the limb.

Weaver, now missing an arm, was carried on Huntress’ back. The structure was shifting, Scion’s counterpart pushing against the walls. They reunited with the others, finding Scion facing another figure, a sexless human shape with disproportionately long hair, incomplete, with fractals extending from its body. This was the second entity’s body, the part he would have shown.

The structure creaked, dust showering down. Imp expressed agreement with the Doctor about abstract solutions. They needed to leave, to get the answers to Tattletale and other thinkers. The Number Man explained the structure had shifted, rotated, designed to confuse teleporters. The route they used was gone.

Lung suggested burying themselves was unwise. The Number Man revealed they expected not to need to leave if they locked themselves in. Golem suggested taking something, like Chevalier’s weapon made from Behemoth and the Simurgh. The Number Man dismissed it as human flesh, experimented on but not useful.

Scion moved abruptly. He carved through his counterpart’s neck, severing the head. The Number Man explained the Doctor had taken powers the entity needed, killing it. Scion gripped the corpse and rose, the entire room shifting in response. The structure wouldn’t hold.

The Number Man estimated one million, seven hundred and thirty thousand tonnes of steel would drop on them. Siberian could only protect a handful. Golem started creating a hand to shield them. Alexandria caught a falling slab, buying time. Golem asked Cuff to find a large piece of metal.

They watched Scion burn his partner, a display of raw emotion: bewilderment, sadness, despair, anger, confusion. Like a child experiencing their first loss. Rachel compared it to losing her dogs, Imp to her brother’s breaking.

Scion dropped the remains, which spooled out of another dimension. Golem created a protective hand, cupped over them. Cuff separated the hand in half. Siberian used her power on it. Alexandria lifted the hand, making room for others to get under.

Weaver, focused on hurting Scion, realized this was their best opportunity. She had an idea but needed to talk to the Number Man. She used her flight pack to approach him, explaining she needed a controlled demolition on her signal. The Number Man agreed, suggesting they use Pretender and Sveta.

Weaver explained the roof’s structure and her remaining cords. She contacted Sveta through her bugs, asking for her help to attack Scion. Sveta agreed, planning to use the hole in the ceiling to escape.

The Number Man confirmed it was doable. Weaver asked Alexandria to swallow a fly, a serious request, not a joke. Alexandria complied.

Sveta flung Scion’s burning counterpart at him. Scion reeled, stunned. Sveta attacked again. Scion retaliated with a wide-area attack. Rachel whistled, the signal. Alexandria charged, hitting key points to bring down the column.

The cords were unnecessary. The floor and Siberian’s power sealed them off from the aftershock, the noise of a skyscraper-sized hammer striking an anvil. Weaver hoped the impact echoed through the connection to the well.

Alexandria, outside, tore away the flooring and column chunk. Scion had blasted his way free, straight up. Imp whooped, mocking Scion. Weaver, swaying, admitted it was satisfying. Lung held Canary, and Weaver saw ideas falling into place.

Golem pointed out Scion was now pissed off. Weaver said they could use that. She didn’t have a solution but knew what it would look like. They needed to go to the hospital, she’d explain on the way.