As Johnny, the hulking, grotesque man, toyed with his collection of instruments, deciding which would bring him the most joy in torturing Cassian next, something miraculous—no, terrifying—began to unfold.
Cassian's battered body, once a canvas of bleeding wounds, started to heal right before Johnny's eyes. The torn flesh knitted itself together as though invisible threads were pulling it taut. Deep gashes smoothed over, the skin rippling like molten wax as it sealed seamlessly. His wounds closed with a speed that defied logic, the grotesque process mesmerizing and horrifying all at once.
His crimson hair, now flowing like it was caught in an unseen breeze, glowed faintly, a fiery aura radiating from every strand. The red light enveloped his entire frame, pulsing with an intensity that made the air around him hum. It wasn't just light—it was rage, pure and unfiltered, oozing from every pore.
Then his eyes snapped open. They were no longer the eyes of a man—they glowed an unnatural, fiery red, burning with a hatred so fierce it could consume the room.
Red with anger. Anger at Johnny, at the world that had allowed this torment, and at the cruel hand of fate that had led him here.
"I'm going to slaughter every last one of you," he growled, his voice dripping with malice, "and make you choke on the agony you've dealt me."
Though his head still hung low, his expression unreadable, he didn't need to show his wrath on his face. The very air around him screamed his fury, crackling with his rising power. It was the kind of rage that promised annihilation, and it would not be stopped.
Johnny, oblivious to the transformation unfolding before him, chuckled as he selected a long, menacing drill bit from his collection. Turning back toward Cassian, his smug expression froze in shock. His eyes widened as he took in the impossible sight before him—Cassian's wounds, fully healed, and his glowing red eyes fixed on Johnny with a fury that could burn through steel.
"You..." Johnny stammered, his voice faltering in disbelief.
Before he could finish his sentence, the sharp
of chains breaking rang out. The first to go were the ones binding Cassian's wrists, the chain links shattering as if they were made of glass. With a thunderous thud, Cassian landed on the ground, his body upright, muscles coiled with raw energy. His head hung low as he muttered, his voice an ominous growl, "Massacre... massacre... I'm going to massacre you all..."
He stepped forward, each movement deliberate and heavy. The floor beneath his bare feet cracked with every step, the force of his presence reverberating through the air. The broken chains clinging to his wrists jingled with a metallic clatter, while the chain still tethered to the massive stone ball dragged behind him, scraping and rattling ominously.
Johnny's chuckles turned to a nervous laugh, his bravado cracking under the weight of the moment. His sweaty fingers tightened around the drill bit as he spat out, "You think you're something now? You just awakened your domain field, didn't you?"
Though Johnny tried to project confidence, his voice betrayed him. He knew exactly what this transformation meant. Cassian, a newly awakened first-circle warrior, was at the peak of his unbridled power, his rage amplifying his strength beyond reason.
Johnny, a second-circle warrior, should have felt secure in his superiority. But he wasn't. Cassian's raw energy was different—it was primal, untamed, and far stronger than anything Johnny had prepared for.
"You were just groveling a few minutes ago, and now you think you can—" Johnny's rant, fueled by fear and shock, was abruptly silenced.
His words were cut off as his face collided with a massive stone ball. The impact twisted his head and neck at an unnatural angle, making his body bend as if it were made of rubber, not bone. The momentum hurled him backward, slamming him into the cold, unyielding wall of the chamber with a sickening thud. The force buried him several feet into the stone, leaving cracks spidering outward like a fractured mirror.
Cassian stood a few feet away, the chain that had bound the ball to his leg now slack. With a single flick of his foot, he had launched the ball like a missile. His expression remained cold, unflinching, as he watched the destruction unfold.
But the ball didn't stop at Johnny. Its sheer force caused it to ricochet off the wall, continuing its path across the chamber. The sudden motion jerked Cassian's leg with it, causing him to stumble and spin slightly, the chain yanking him around like a puppet.
Even as he staggered, his expression didn't change. Cassian regained his footing swiftly, his face calm, almost emotionless, as if none of it mattered. With a single pull, he snapped the chain from his leg like it was a mere thread, the metal links shattering into fragments.
He turned his attention back to Johnny, whose limp body was barely hanging in the indent he'd created in the wall. Cassian began walking toward him, the massive stone ball now rolling obediently behind him like a grim shadow. Each step echoed with menace, a chilling promise that this was far from over.
Cassian reached the fat man embedded in the wall, his bare feet leaving cracked imprints on the ground with each step. His expression remained eerily blank, devoid of any emotion, but his glowing red eyes betrayed the storm of fury raging within him. The massive stone ball trailed behind him, scraping along the cold chamber floor, its chains rattling ominously.
Without hesitation, he raised the stone ball high above his head with one hand, the weight of it seemingly inconsequential in his current state. The fat man, groaning weakly and barely conscious, looked up just in time to see the glowing red eyes before the ball came crashing down.
The impact echoed through the chamber as blood splattered across the walls and floor. The man's body jerked once before going limp. Cassian didn't stop. He lifted the ball again, the wet, sticky sound of flesh tearing and bones shattering filling the space.
Each blow sent chunks of flesh and splinters of bone scattering like shattered glass. The once-arrogant fat man was being reduced to an unrecognizable pulp, his screams long silenced. Cassian continued, his face an unreadable mask, but his eyes burned brighter with every strike.
The sound was visceral, like a vegetable being pulverized into mush. Wet splatters painted Cassian's arms and chest, but he didn't flinch. His focus was singular, his rage unrelenting. The chain clinked with each movement, the rhythmic pounding of the stone ball almost ritualistic.
By the time he finally stopped, what remained of the man was nothing more than a grotesque smear on the wall and floor. Cassian dropped the ball, its weight shaking the ground, and stood still for a moment, his breaths slow and deep.