Predator didn't bother checking himself—he didn't need to. The change sat in his bones. Taller than before, nearly brushing six feet 7 inches now. And that wasn't the armor's trickery. That was him.
The suit still clung to him like black water, shadows shifting over the surface in slow, tidal movements.
Every activation came with that same sensation—submerged, weightless, with nothing but dark in every direction. Oddly calming. Too calming.
He lifted a hand. Tendrils drifted lazily above the knuckles like steam refusing to rise.
"I feel fine," he said, voice low. "However… it never feels like I can't satisfy the hunger this causes in me." His head tilted slightly. "It worries me because even now—" he eyed Gary, "—even for you, I don't see a person. I see a meal."
Gary didn't step back. He just raised a brow, arms hanging loose at his sides.
"If such power came with no drawbacks, sir," Gary said, tone steady, "I imagine the world would be far more chaotic than it already is."
