As the thousands of eyes in the black clay watched Drust being hoisted up by the metal serpent, a mixture of rage and despair flooded Aliyu. He wanted to scream every time he noticed the bloodstains the redhead left behind, every time the flames around him disappeared. Why the hell had the redhead run towards the metal vipers? Why did those things explode, sweeping away the life of the river and knocking the African down? For what stupid reason had Drust run towards him, turning his back on the enemy? Why the fuck, out of disgust, had the redhead given up on extending a hand to help him up?

If Drust hadn't withdrawn his hand, maybe Aliyu could have pulled him out of the path of the harpoons. If the giant weren't an abnormal freak with unnatural desires, maybe he would be holding the redhead's hand right then, instead of seeing him bleeding, being dragged upriver. If the fucking black clay didn't get so rigid underwater, maybe he would have reached the redhead before the harpoons. Maybe his efforts would have made a difference.

Even so, Aliyu still tried to move forward against the current. He knew what that could mean for Zainab, he knew that the other armored serpents were still swimming towards him, but he continued. It was his fault that the redhead was now unconscious and probably drowning. And the truth was that, in the next few minutes, regardless of the Nigerian's efforts, Drust would probably be dead. It was a truth that Aliyu tried not to think about, but one that insisted on shouting that something invaluable would die along with the redhead. That was why the thousands of eyes of the black clay barely noticed the approaching serpents or the dead fish in the way. All attention was glued to Drust. And so it was that, in a brief instant, the giant noticed the flames reappearing around the tattooed man. It was something brief, a mere flash, followed by a new, heavy, and painful shudder from the redhead.

Before Aliyu could think about what that meant, two more serpents fired harpoons at him. Like the bullets in Manaus, only the tips of the harpoons penetrated the black clay. That was when he felt waves of painful, rapid, and intense tremors emanating from the harpoons and flooding the clay around him. Little of it reached his skin, but it was already uncomfortable enough. Until it suddenly wasn't. The tremor continued in the black clay, in waves that came and went from the harpoons, but no longer reached the African's skin. It didn't hurt anymore. In fact, he felt, somehow, better. The black clay was no longer rigid. It didn't allow for totally free movement, but it was more fluid, a little more like when he was on land.

Aliyu didn't stop to think about that. He didn't know how or why he had regained his movement, nor how long it would be before the clay would become rigid again. He had one chance to save the redhead, maybe only one. So, with all his strength, he leaped towards the redhead.

At the beginning of the jump, Aliyu's speed was absurdly great, which made the giant fear for the fractures he would cause when he reached Drust. Fortunately, the water, the current, and the serpents pulling the harpoons in the black clay were also quick to slow that speed down until it almost stopped him. In the end, all Aliyu managed to do was grab one of the redhead's heels. Which filled him with immediate and terrible regret.

The extra weight strained the cables between Drust and the machine-serpent. Then, in the blink of an eye, the hooks were ripped from the tattooed man, opening wounds even larger than the entry ones. Before, if drowning would kill the redhead in minutes and the wounds in hours, now both threats needed to be resolved urgently.

Meanwhile, all the machine-serpents were repositioning themselves, surrounding them and firing new harpoons at the tattooed man and Aliyu, the tremors injected by the harpoons into the dark clay stronger than ever. But this time, even more intense, they didn't hurt the African, just made him more awake, more alive, his mind racing. And that's how he noticed that, downriver, a gigantic cloud of silt and mud was rising from the bottom. The reason for that didn't matter now; what mattered was that maybe the cloud would serve as camouflage later. As long as they sank far enough for their feet to touch the bottom. He couldn't tell if that would happen before or after the harpoons hit Drust. Without thinking, the African pulled the other man towards him as fast as he could, hugging him and turning him so as to place himself between him and the enemies. And for Aliyu, that was the most confusing situation he had ever lived through.

Although the African felt the relief of seeing that the harpoons passed above them, where the redhead had been before, he also imagined the disgust and fear Drust would feel if he woke up, naked, embraced by a sick and depraved giant like him. If, of course, the flames came back on and stayed on long enough for Drust to wake up. That made Aliyu worry whether the redhead´s flames would burn the black clay, and what effect those flames would have on the huge wounds on the other man's belly.

The African, however, didn't have time to make a decision. As quick as thought, the flames sprouted around the redhead. And against all odds, they spread, painfully, into the dark clay around Aliyu.