Darkness.
Complete and utter Darkness.
Not the peaceful kind that comes from rest or slumber.
This was a cold and suffocating kind of Darkness.
Dusty floated—or was he falling? There was no ground beneath him, yet there was no sky above. Only the void and the pain that he felt.
Wait. Pain? Did he feel that right?
That was a good sign.
Pain meant that he wasn't gone yet.
If only I could remember what I was doing before I ended up here.
Let's see.... Oh, right. I got stabbed.
Okay, let's hope this works.
He gathered his mana, focusing solely on his Ultra-Regeneration. It was the one ability that he had right now, the only thing that could keep him alive.
His senses slowly returned to him. The first was sound. He heard a distant, mocking laughter—familiar, yet chilling. Then came the taste of metallic blood in his mouth. The feeling of coldness in his chest. The smell of death, the smell of blood spilt. And then, it returned. His vision had finally returned.
Lucas.
There he was, standing above him with a damn smirk stretched across his face.
He was twisting a knife in Dusty's chest.
Dusty coughed, the sound dry and ragged, as he slowly recovered.
"What? Trying to get up now? It's a little bit late for that, don't you think?"
Lucas's voice dripped with arrogance. He thought it was over. He thought that he had won.
"Gotcha."
Dusty smirked, the pain in his chest fading as his cells rapidly regenerated. The hole in his chest sealed itself, like nothing had ever happened. He pulled the dagger free, tossing it aside as his hand grabbed Lucas's wrist. His fingers tightened. It was time.
This whole scenario had been a trap from the very beginning.
Not for Dusty and his classmates, but for the one watching in the shadows.
Dusty had let his classmates get stabbed, knowing full well that their deaths would serve as the perfect bait for Lucas. He needed his guard to drop, needed Lucas to believe that he had won. Of course, there were likely healers on standby who would eventually revive his teammates, but they weren't his concern right now. His life—his survival— was more important than anyone he would ever call an ally.
He couldn't afford to be soft, not now.
Dusty spoke out, his voice dark and cold. "Why don't we have a little fun, Lucas? Let's play a little game. I've been wanting to test my second ability on some human test subjects for a while now. Let's see how long you can last. This will be so much fun!"
Lucas recoiled, surprise written all across his face. He hadn't expected the sudden regeneration or any of this. In a panic, he pushed off, struggling to break free, but it was hopeless. Dusty's strength, augmented by the Physical Enhancement, held him in place. There was no escape anymore. The only freedom for Lucas was going to be the afterlife.
"Okay, here's the first test: let's see if I can destroy a human's body parts." Without letting go of Lucas's wrist, his free hand shot forward. Dusty slammed Lucas's head down, his fingers digging into the soft flesh before it crashed into the ground.
His head was foggy. Blood flooded out of his mouth as his vision blurred, and dizziness all around him. His body throbbed in pain, but the worst part was the cold and unforgiving realization settling in his mind—he was losing.
'How... How are you this strong?" Lucas's voice cracked, his voice a mix of disbelief and fear.
Dusty leaned in close, his breath against Lucas's ear. He could feel the life draining out of his body, but Dusty wasn't done yet. Not by a long shot.
"Because, between the two of us, I'm the real demon."
Dusty smiled, not from any joy or satisfaction, but from a deep, sadistic pleasure. This wasn't just about winning anymore. It was about proving something.
With a swift motion, Dusty placed his hand on Lucas's head. The demon's skull cracked under his grip. Dusty closed his eyes, focusing on his Reality Manipulation. In an instant, Lucas's head exploded.
Boom.
It was done. Blood, bone, and whatever brain splatter there was sprayed across the floor. The only noise was the faint sound of dripping blood.
Dusty stood over the lifeless body, looking at the remains of a demon whom he had once thought of as a decent opponent. He wasn't done yet. Not yet.
He reached out, placing his hand where Lucas's head had once been. He focused his mind, channelled his mana, and imagined the shattered pieces coming back together.
It worked.
The scattered remains of Lucas's head reformed. The blood and bone twisted back into what resembled a head. It collapsed inward, almost like a dying star, collapsing in on itself, fragile, unstable. But he wasn't quite finished yet.
The game had only just begun.
The body twitched, being pulled back into existence, the blood pooling around it before the remains snapped back into place. The remains of his skull reformed, the bone and tissue stitching back together. His eyes fluttered open, revealing only terror as his body realized it no longer had control over his life.
Dusty's smile widened. "Welcome back, Lucas. Let's see if you can last a tad bit longer this time."
Dusty couldn't help but laugh.
"Not so perfect now, are you?" he mocked, watching Lucas struggle to get up.
It just kept getting better and better.
"Tell me," Dusty continued, his voice low and pure evil, "How was it to die? How was it to have your dreams ripped away from you, Lucas?"
Lucas's head jerked back violently as he tried to escape. He was still trapped by the overwhelming strength Dusty possessed. His eyes darted in panic, his instincts screaming at him to run away, but there was no escape.
"You think you're so much better than humans, don't you? A perfect being, someone like a god, right?" Dusty spat on Lucas, "You're no real demon. I'll show you what a realdemon is like."
He started punching. Blow after blow landed on Lucas's face. Every time he died, Dusty revived him.
"I should thank you, Lucas. You've helped me discover just how fun this can be," Dusty said, almost gleeful, his eyes filled with pure bloodlust and insanity. He raised his hands once more, this time infused with the strength of Fire Manipulation, Physical Enhancement, and Reality Manipulation.
Lucas's eyes widened in horror as Dusty raised his fist and, with a swift motion, thrust it down through his body. The fist was so powerful it tore a hole through Lucas's chest and shattered the stone floor beneath them. The blood erupted on Dusty's face. Lucas's body, well, the part that was intact, was burned, scarred forever. He was dead. And this time, Dusty had no intention of reviving him.
Dusty stood over the remains, chest heaving, and he was out of breath. It seemed he had to work on his stamina more. The once-proud "demon" was nothing more than a fragment of his former self, a destroyed corpse.
"Game over," Dusty muttered, looking down at the pieces of Lucas's body. "That was so much fun!"
He wiped his hands, dripping with blood, on his chin. Then, turning back, he walked away.
The others were still alive. For now, at least. It seemed that they had all passed out. It was perfect for Dusty, as there were no witnesses. It was the perfect opportunity to pick the bodies up and drag them out. A somewhat believable story that the tyrant had gotten the best of them in an ambush, and somehow he managed to survive and burn its corpse.
Then, as he was picking up the bodies to bring them to the healers, a voice called out from behind him.
"Dusty?" Alistar's voice trembled.