The moment Shiro vanished—he reappeared behind Big Ugly, claws raking the air, inches from his spine.
SLASH!
Sparks flew as claw met enchanted hide. Not deep enough to drop him—but enough to draw a grunt.
Big Ugly spun, hammer swinging wide.
Shiro ducked, twisted, and drove a knee into the brute's ribs—bone cracked like dry bark.
Big Ugly growled, spittle flying, veins flaring crimson.
"You hit like a bitch!"
Shiro grinned.
"You bleed like one."
Then the relic pulsed again.
THUMP.
His vision blurred—edges glowing faint red.
Time didn't stop.
But it slowed.
The hammer's arc. The twitch in Big Ugly's shoulder. The sloppiness in his footwork.
It all clicked.
Like instinct had taken the wheel.
Like something old inside him had opened its eyes.
He moved.
Fluid. Primal. Precise.
Every dodge, every strike flowed like memory. He ducked a crushing blow and ripped upward, claws slashing across Big Ugly's chest—runes screaming as they tore.
Big Ugly staggered, bellowing.
Dez shouted from cover, "You're syncing with the relic! It's reactin' to your near-death signals!"
Shiro didn't hear him.
He was deep in it.
A burn lit up his spine—
Not pain.
Awareness.
Hotter. Lighter. Sharper.
Not invincible.
Just more.
He flipped onto the brute's back, claws sinking into rune-flesh like a beast claiming a kill.
Big Ugly roared and slammed back into a wall. It worked—barely.
Shiro rolled, came up panting, grin cracked and bloody.
THUMP.
The relic pulsed again—faint. Like it gave just enough… and paused.
Big Ugly hunched over, blood dripping from torn glyphs.
"You… ain't normal."
Shiro spat blood.
"Thanks. I try."
They stared at each other in the wreckage.
Then—
Dez's voice from the hallway:
"They're tryin' to send a distress pulse—I'll stop it!"
Shiro didn't look back. Cracked his neck. Claws scraped concrete.
"One more round."
Big Ugly grinned, tusks bloody.
"Fine by me."
They lunged.
⸻
Server Wing
Dez slammed a relic card into the override slot. The lock buzzed, resisted—then clunked open.
Inside: blinking servers. Three cores. A beacon already pulsing.
"Hell no."
He sprinted to the console, slapped a disk on it, yanked the panel open.
"Dez McCoo override protocol—don't f*ck this up."
Sparks rained. Fingers moved fast. The fight thundered beyond the walls.
⸻
Warehouse Floor
Shiro drove Big Ugly's face into a crate—only to be grabbed by the throat and flung.
BOOM.
He crashed through boxes and steel.
Big Ugly panted, glyphs flickering.
Then—
A fifth mage stepped from the shadows above.
No chant. Just a whisper.
A sigil flared in the air—
FLASH.
Big Ugly's glyphs reignited, hotter, violet-red. Twisting. Overlapping.
Shiro's eyes narrowed.
"…You gotta be shittin' me."
The hammer howled, absorbing the magic like fuel.
Not a buff.
A release.
Big Ugly let out a warped roar. His jaw widened. Veins popped like lava cords. Skin ridged and pulsing.
He dropped the hammer—let it hover at his side.
He didn't look like a brawler anymore.
He looked cursed.
Shiro braced.
"…The hell are you now?"
Big Ugly laughed. Voice twisted.
"Better."
Then he blinked forward.
CRACK!
The hammer slammed into Shiro's ribs—sent him crashing through a half-wall.
He groaned, coughing blood.
The relic flared—sparking wild. Crawling like it wanted out.
Big Ugly stalked through smoke.
"No more jokes."
Shiro rolled to his feet, cracked his neck. Blood down his chin.
He raised his claws.
"Nope."
Spit.
"Now it's personal."
⸻
Elsewhere
Dez sprinted a side hall, gauntlet blazing—voltage darts popping two guards.
They didn't drop.
He slid behind a crate. "They got resistance now?!"
Two more rounded the corner. One threw a flash rune.
Dez ducked just before it burst. "Damn it…"
He cracked a capsule—blue smoke hissed, flooding the corridor.
Shots rang. Boots pounded.
He tossed a shock disc—it burst midair, slamming one guard into a wall. The other lunged—Dez stabbed low and rolled past him.
"Hang on, brother… I'm coming."
⸻
Warehouse Floor
Shiro charged, claws gleaming.
But on the catwalk—
A second mage appeared. Green sigils circled his arms. Eyes glassy.
He chanted fast. A runic chain lashed out—latched to Big Ugly's spine.
The glyphs surged—overlapping, distorting. Unstable.
Shiro's gut twisted.
This wasn't buffing.
It was unlocking.
Big Ugly roared—muscles bulging. Skin darkening, veiny, warped. Teeth longer. Eyes glowing like furnaces.
The hammer floated beside him, humming.
Shiro stopped mid-step.
"…well damn your even uglier."
Big Ugly grinned, voice vibrating.
"I'm what you should be scared of."
Then he vanished again.
CRACK!
The hammer caught Shiro in the shoulder—sent him skidding across the floor. Blood smeared the concrete.
He stayed down a second too long.
The relic inside him sparked—angry. Hungry.
Take.
Survive.
A pulse hit his chest—not external. Internal. A beast inside him barked awake.
The gauntlet hissed—metal spreading like veins over his forearm, fingers flexing on their own.
Not full possession.
Just a taste.
Claws lengthened. Fangs sharpened. His muscles tightened, eyes flaring gold-ringed-red.
He stood. Slow.
Eyes burning. Breath fogging the air.
The relic whispered in his bones:
More.
Bleed.
Break.
Shiro didn't speak.
He charged.
Feral-fast.
Not enchanted—just brutal.
He collided with Big Ugly mid-roar—drove both claws into his gut, ripping through armor and flesh.
The brute choked.
Shiro leapt, spun, claws trailing.
SLASH!
He carved across Big Ugly's face—tearing deep.
The war beast screamed, crashing to a knee.
For once—
Shiro looked like the monster.
Chest rising. Eyes glowing. Grin carved in blood.
Dez peeked from cover, still firing at guards, and muttered—
"…Yo. What the hell did you do?"
Shiro wiped blood from his lip, grinned wider.
"Just said hello."