As his palm descended, the sludge began to quiver. The grasping hands suddenly stopped moving, and the countless faces all looked toward Meng Hao. Their expressions were no longer hostile, but rather filled with veneration and even excitement.
Suddenly, a massive crack split the earth and the sludge. It grew wider and deeper, splitting apart the hands and faces along with it. Meng Hao flew down toward it.
As he approached it, the sludge crept away, not daring to come close to him, as if a deep fear of him existed within it.
Meng Hao shot inside, his body flashing like lightning and radiating determination. The crack grew wider and wider, and within the space of a few breaths, Meng Hao came to a stop. Even as the crack grew larger, he saw it, there, deep within… a body.
It was not thirty meters long. It was the mastiff, but only the size of a palm. Its eyes were closed, and patches of fur were visible through the sludge that covered its body. Its fur wasn’t red, but deathly gray. It was no longer fierce and savage. And the cute, furry puppy it had once been, now existed only in Meng Hao’s eternal memories.
He thought about how as it grew up, it would run in circles around his feet, letting out playful yipping sounds, its fur rippling.