Pierce
Kevin's claw tore straight through Isla's chest, slicing past her evolved superhuman muscles and bones as if they were paper. Nothing could obstruct his attack.
Pull
Clench
With one brutal tug, he ripped her heart from her body.
Holding the still-beating organ in his palm, Kevin flashed an innocent smile.
"You won't mind if I take this, right?"
Then, with deliberate cruelty, he clenched his claw, crushing the heart into a pulpy mush.
Isla's eyes trembled violently. She couldn't believe it—she was really going to die, even in the presence of the strongest person she knew.
Instinctively, her gaze drifted toward Solren. He was already watching her.
Her lips parted.
"Y-Your High—"
Thud.
She collapsed onto the wet sand, cold and unmoving.
Solren did not feel sorrow. The first emotion that surged within him as he witnessed Isla's death was anger—a raw, burning fury.
Word of his failure would spread. He, the empire's prince and highest-ranking war commander, had allowed one of his subordinates to perish—someone weaker than himself—all because of a momentary lapse in vigilance. Such carelessness was unacceptable.
His gaze darkened as it settled on Kevin. The fire inside him roared to life.
For the first time in their confrontation, Solren unleashed his full strength.
Before Kevin could react, Solren clamped his hand around his wrist and drove a devastating kick into his chest.
Tear.
Kevin's body shot through the air like an arrow, crashing through sand dunes, obliterating them as he passed.
When he finally came to a stop, a massive depression marred the center of his chest. He turned his head to the right, expecting to see his hand—but where it should have been, there was only empty space.
His joints had failed against such overwhelming force. His hand was gone.
Kevin coughed, barely managing to lift his head.
"Hey, there's no reason to fight anymore."
"I've collected what I wanted. You have nothing left to protect."
Solren didn't respond.
His figure blurred—closing the distance in an instant.
This time, he reappeared before Kevin, gripping his neck and lifting him effortlessly off the ground.
"You're just a tool," Solren murmured, his voice devoid of emotion. "And right now, you've crossed a line."
His expression remained indifferent.
There was no hesitation in his words, no anger—just an absolute certainty.
Kevin coughed, his hands instinctively clawing at Solren's iron grip, but his struggles meant nothing.
"You like playing games, don't you?"
Solren's grip tightened, bones grinding beneath his fingers.
"Then let's play a new one."
The distant hum of rotor blades grew louder, slicing through the thick desert air as four helicopters arrived, positioning themselves perfectly around Solren.
Without giving Kevin a chance to object—because his choice did not matter—Solren began explaining the rules.
"The rules are simple. I will try to kill you. You will try to survive. Easy, right?"
Kevin's body twitched—an instinctual response.
But 'fear' was absent from his face. Instead, amusement flickered beneath the pain, curling at the edge of his lips.
Despite the crushing grip around his throat, he managed to chuckle, his voice hoarse but unfazed.
"Did your petty pride get hurt?"
Solren ignored him.
He continued, signaling commands to the pilots with precise hand gestures.
"If you die, I'll take your body for research."
"And if you survive... well, we'll decide then."
Raising his hand, Solren tore one of Kevin's legs clean off before hurling him high into the air.
The instant Kevin left the ground—
Gunfire erupted from all four helicopters, their arsenal firing relentlessly. Bullets and plasma rounds tore through Kevin's flesh. His regeneration fought to keep up—each wound healing only to be ripped open again a fraction of a second later.
Solren watched the massacre unfold, arms crossed, his expression unreadable.
Above, Kevin's body jerked violently in mid-air, caught in the relentless crossfire.
Solren didn't need to say a word.
This wasn't punishment.
It wasn't retribution.
Then, silence.
The assault finally ceased. Smoke curled from the scorched sand, thick with the acrid scent of gunpowder.
The helicopters hovered, their barrels cooling from the relentless barrage.
Kevin's body struck the ground—limp, broken. His chest barely rose and fell, his frame reduced to little more than torn muscle and shattered bone.
Yet… he was still alive.
Solren's eyes narrowed as he glanced into the crater left by the prolonged onslaught.
It shouldn't have been possible. Kevin's regeneration had barely kept up, each wound struggling to mend in time—yet his heart still beat.
Despite his shattered body, despite everything stripped from him, he had survived.
Just as Solren was about to order another round of fire, laughter resounded across the desert, halting him mid-command.
A broken, rasping sound at first—then it grew.
"Heh… Heh… HeaHAHAHAHAHAHA!"
Kevin was laughing like a madman. His body hung on the brink of death, his unnatural regeneration forcing his mangled organs to regrow despite the devastation.
Blood poured from his mouth with every chuckle.
And yet—under Solren's sharp gaze—he pushed himself to stand, his body trembling but unyielding.
Kevin locked eyes with Solren.
"I've heard plenty of rumors that humans have a terrible grasp of what's good for them," he rasped,
his grin widening, "but looking at your actions… I can confirm it's true."
Even now, he laughed.
Solren's voice remained cold.
"How disappointing… Did your mind break so easily?"
Kevin's gaze didn't falter.
"Disappointing, indeed—my time is up."
"Disappointing, indeed—that I won't live long enough to witness the crimson masterpiece He will create in this lifeless desert."
Solren's brows furrowed. He?
Kevin spoke in riddles, but something in his tone made Solren listen.
Then—dark green thunder erupted around Kevin's body.
Solren's instincts screamed.
This was no ordinary thunder—not the kind seen in storms, on television, or in animation. This was something else.
A spark that beckoned his very senses to embrace oblivion.
The steady downpour that had accompanied them throughout the battle recoiled, withdrawing from Kevin entirely.
The sand beneath him remained dry, untouched by the rain, while the rest of the desert welcomed water for the first time in years.
Kevin—or whatever he was becoming—lifted his hand, now fully consumed in the crackling green storm.
"Can you see it?" he asked, his voice laced with reverence.
"This is her blessing… her weapon… and her final hope."
A wild grin spread across his face—one that shouldn't have carried admiration, yet somehow did.
Kevin(????) turned his gaze to Solren.
"Goodbye, human."
"May He have mercy on you."
The green thunder expanded, enveloping him entirely—but it didn't stop.
It grew, forming a perfect sphere around him.
Solren felt it now—the subtle but undeniable sense of danger.
Not overwhelming, not immediate.
Just a quiet warning.
Without hesitation, Solren signaled the helicopters.
"Fire everything. Now."
All four aircraft released their short-range explosive missiles.
Even Solren had to retreat, ensuring he didn't get caught in the blast radius or lingering radiation.
Maintaining a safe distance, he stood, arms crossed, waiting for the destruction to unfold.
But—nothing happened.
Solren clenched his teeth.
"Has a traitor emerged from our arms manufacturing branch?"
Disregarding caution, he stepped forward, peering into the crater.
His eyes widened.
All four missiles hovered—suspended—trapped within the dark green sphere.
Slowly, the green lightning crawled across their metal frames, consuming them, disintegrating the surface like paper curling into fire.
Suddenly, the dark green thunder flickered violently, sending a wave of unease through Solren's senses.
His instincts screamed, Move.
But he wasn't fast enough.
BOOM.
The explosion erupted with a force greater than all four missiles combined, hurling Solren several meters through the air.
Yet, he adjusted mid-flight, twisting his body before landing smoothly—several controlled flips stabilizing his descent.
He didn't approach the crater.
Instead, he reached into his pocket, retrieving a small box.
Inside, submerged in a light blue liquid, rested an artificial lens.
Without hesitation, Solren placed the lens over his left eye.
A screen flickered to life—linked to the cameras mounted within the hovering helicopters.
Then, he saw it.
For the first time since arriving, his expression hardened.
In the center of the crater, it stood—no longer just Kevin, but something transformed.
His once-human form had shifted, twisted beyond recognition, yet disturbingly familiar.
Dark green hair, crackling with living thunder, extended past his shoulders in wild, unkempt locks, the strands alive with energy.
His eyes—or what remained of them—had sunken deep, their sockets brimming with unstable green light, flickering like a flame that refused to die.
Broad shoulders and elongated limbs marked his beastial frame, muscles contorted in unnatural ways. His skin, once torn and bleeding, had fused with the very lightning coursing through him—veins glowing, bursting, and regenerating in a never-ending cycle.
His hands were no longer hands.
Where flesh once existed, now lay monstrous claws sculpted from pure energy, jagged and primal.
Each talon twitched, eager, restless, as if seeking prey.
And then—
His head snapped toward one of the hovering helicopters.
Even though Solren was observing through indirect vision, a horrifying realization settled within him.
The entity wasn't just looking at the machine.
It was staring through it.
It was staring directly at him.