Adrian stood motionless before the rock that blocked off his cave-cell. The surface was uneven and weather-worn, fitted tightly into the natural wall like a tombstone sealing a crypt. He pressed his palm flat against its jagged edge and exhaled quietly.
A pulse of telekinetic force surged through his palm. The stone slid outward with a low grind, just enough to allow him to slip through without drawing attention.
He didn't step forward immediately. His senses reached out like a spider's web. There—just twenty meters ahead. A guard. It had been patrolling for a while, moving in a slow, repetitive pattern. Dumb, but dangerous.
The cave outside stretched out into a long natural ravine, like a cracked scar in the belly of the earth. Rough stone walls stretched up on both sides—twisting and narrowing as they ascended—until they met a ceiling choked with lush green moss, glistening vines, and old roots that hung like the entrails of some massive subterranean beast. Specks of pale blue light filtered down through cracks in the stone above.
Adrian crouched low, then launched himself upward in silence, the soles of his feet pressing into the stone wall before he kicked off, flipping upward. He latched onto a curtain of vines and moss, using it as cover. He hung there, muscles tense, waiting.
The creature ambled closer—bony, tall, twisted. Its posture was half-hunched, sniffing the air with blind milky eyes. It passed right beneath him.
Now.
Adrian dropped like a stone, landing directly on its back—his legs clamping around its torso. Both hands shot down, clapping against the sides of its skull.
And then—
Implosion.
A sickening crunch echoed through the cavern as the creature's head collapsed inward like a ruptured fruit, its neck folding in on itself. It never even made a sound. Blood mist sprayed upward in a slow, dreamy arc as the body slumped forward, twitching once.
Blood Control: active.
The blood shimmered unnaturally in the air, tendrils of crimson rising around Adrian like smoke reversing gravity. Some of it flowed into his body, growing back his fingers, closing wounds, filling torn veins. His skin mended over, pale but whole.
"Nice going," May muttered beside him, arms crossed.
He didn't reply. His focus stayed sharp. His senses reached again—no sudden movement. No alerts. Yet.
Adrian crouched once more, knees tense, and then launched himself skyward with a silent telekinetic burst, gripping the ceiling vines again.
Then he screamed.
A raw, ragged roar tore from his throat—not of fear, but of challenge. It echoed violently, ricocheting through the cavern like a warhorn.
A few seconds passed. Then:
Movement. All of them. Hundreds. Closing in fast.
The first wave arrived.
Twelve of them, skittering into the ravine, eyes locked on the broken corpse of the guard. They sniffed, hissed, crouched low—distracted.
Adrian's eyes glowed like burning coals. He was right above them.
"Now."
He force-blasted upward, slamming into the ceiling—and shattering it.
Chunks of jagged stone rained down like a landslide. Sharp-edged boulders cracked against bone and sinew. The beasts screamed—some crushed outright, others pinned under rubble. Adrian dropped from the ceiling, landing just beside the carnage, blood painting his face.
Without hesitation, he extended both hands and began extracting.
Blood surged.
Rivers of red poured upward from crushed torsos, open wounds, torn arteries. The air twisted and shimmered with the density of it, like a grotesque storm. It coiled around Adrian's body in graceful arcs, hundreds of liters, spinning faster and faster in a vortex of motion.
The effort hurt—his nose bled, his chest throbbed. But he didn't stop.
More.
He stepped back, eyes locking onto the hallway behind him. And then—he shaped it.
Two massive crimson wings unfurled behind him, crafted from raw blood. Jagged, shifting, almost ethereal in their unstable shape.
He exhaled once.
Then ran.
A sprint.
A force-blast from beneath launched him like a missile.
He soared overhead, twisting mid-air, trailing a storm of blood behind him like a comet-tail.
Below, the monsters looked up.
Too late.
With one final surge, he released the blood.
And ignited it.
The sky above the ravine lit up with hellfire.
A cascading inferno erupted behind him, flames dancing and licking at the stone walls. The beasts shrieked, thrashing, catching fire one by one. They crashed into each other in blind panic—one touched another, who touched three more—each contact a death sentence. The fire spread like a disease, turning the ravine into a tunnel of screaming death.
Adrian hit the ground hard, rolling with the momentum, blood seeping from his nose, ears, arms. His body shuddered with the toll—but he didn't stop.
Ahead—still more beasts waited. But the panic behind him gave him space.
He dashed forward, ducking low, weaving through clusters of frightened, burning monsters. He slipped between limbs, ducked claws, dodged through the chaos.
And then—
The end of the ravine.
A craggy wall, steep but scalable.
Adrian leapt, fingers digging into moss and stone, scrambling up. His arms burned. The air behind him scorched his back. But inch by inch, he climbed.
Until, finally—
He pulled himself over the edge, collapsing onto the grass above.
Smoke poured up behind him.
The pit below burned.
And Adrian lay on the edge of it, gasping for air.