Expanse

Across the glowing river, a mutant village crouches beneath a bruised sky. Stripped cars, fuel drums, and scavenged loudspeakers ring a stained concrete platform.

Frightened mutants are bound with wire and rope, herded between sagging fences toward the platform. Their uneven silhouettes flinch beneath the loudspeakers' crackling hum.

The elder climbs onto the platform, wrapped in patched coats and strips of reflective foil. A dead generator coughs, then feeds the speakers a low, distorted drone.

Itzu's silhouette stretches across the water, an impossible chain of torsos and grasping arms against the pale radiance. Several villagers turn and recoil.

The elder raises one hand toward Itzu. The gesture could summon him to the platform, or warn the bound villagers not to look his way.

Itzu remains where the river’s pale glow catches his many reaching arms. He watches the platform, the bound villagers, and the elder without crossing the water.

The villagers notice his stillness. Their whispers fade beneath the loudspeakers’ drone, leaving only rope creaks, failing machinery, and the river sliding through the dark.

The elder turns from Itzu and signals two attendants. They tighten the reflective sheets around the platform, angling them toward the open sky.

A cracked recording stutters through the speakers, layered with fragments of pre-collapse announcements. The bound villagers stare at the ground while the elder faces the stars.

Itzu remains uninvolved, watching as the village performs its ceremony across the river. No one approaches him, and nothing demands his movement.

Itzu lowers his sprawling length into the glowing river. Hundreds of arms sweep slowly through the current, carrying his linked torsos forward as the radiance washes harmlessly over him.

The river parts around his many bodies without resistance. Pale light slides across his ordinary smiling face while he crosses toward the concrete platform.

The recording continues its broken chant. Several villagers lift their heads as Itzu reaches the near bank, his foremost arms gripping wet concrete beside the platform.

Attendants retreat from the waterline, dragging the reflective sheets aside to leave a clear approach. The bound villagers remain behind the sagging fence, watching him in rigid silence.

Itzu's foremost arms hook over the fence and seize the nearest bound sacrifice. The rope snaps taut as his sprawling body draws the captive toward the riverlit platform.

The attendants freeze beside the reflective sheets. Behind the sagging fence, the other villagers recoil as Itzu folds around the captive, hiding the struggle from sight.

The loudspeakers stutter through a broken announcement while the platform shadows shift. When Itzu withdraws, the first sacrifice is gone, and silence fills the space.

An attendant reaches for another tied villager, but hesitates at the fence. The elder points toward the remaining sacrifices as the recording resumes its distorted chant.

Itzu turns toward the remaining sacrifices, his ordinary smile widening. His topmost torso parts along the jaw, opening into an impossible darkness as his many arms advance.

The bound villagers cry out and strain against their ropes. Itzu folds across the fence, drawing them beneath his sprawling length while the loudspeakers shriek with feedback.

One by one, the remaining sacrifices vanish beneath Itzu's interlocked torsos. The ceremony's drone becomes a muffled rhythm, then falls silent as the recording jams.

The cost lands in a burst of sound: a snapped fence brace crashes onto the concrete, and the failing generator coughs out its last charge.

Itzu advances across the concrete with deliberate grace. His many arms place him carefully between fallen braces and torn reflective sheets, disturbing nothing else.

The settlement elder watches him approach, foil strips trembling against his patched coat. He does not retreat, though the dead speakers leave the platform terribly quiet.

Itzu lowers his foremost length and raises one hand. Its palm settles lightly over the elder’s face, almost tenderly, while his ordinary smile remains fixed.

Then the gentleness ends. In one sudden burst, Itzu drives the elder down against the concrete. His laughter breaks across the platform as the movement concludes.

The elder lies motionless beside the dead generator. Dust drifts from the impact, settling over his reflective wrappings and the darkened platform.

Beyond the fence, the surviving villagers stare at Itzu, ropes still binding their wrists. No one reaches for the dropped tools or dares approach the platform.

Across the river, a loose loudspeaker clicks once and releases a final fragment of the old recording: a direction, a date, then static.

Itzu turns from the silent platform and lowers his sprawling length into the river. Hundreds of arms sweep through the pale current, carrying him away from the settlement.

The water closes around his linked torsos without resistance. Behind him, the surviving villagers remain bound, watching his ordinary smiling face recede through the river’s glow.

Itzu reaches the opposite bank and climbs onto cracked earth, dripping river water across weeds and broken concrete. His arms gather beneath him, restoring his swift, crawling rhythm.

Behind Itzu, the loose loudspeaker clicks again. A fragment of the old message repeats through static, naming a date and a northern direction before fading.

Itzu leaves the riverbank and disappears among overturned vehicles and scrub, while across the water the villagers begin struggling against their ropes in the dead ceremony’s silence.