Rune awoke to a tearing pain, not from the mortal wounds he'd suffered, but from a grotesque rebirth unfolding within every cell of his body. He lay in a narrow crevice of the ruins, the scent of damp decay and rusted metal assaulting his nostrils. Darkness enveloped him, save for faint slivers of light filtering through a crack above, just enough to reveal the horrifying extent of his transformation.
The bone spike from his shoulder blade had hardened, pinning him to the cold stone floor. The stab wound in his back had closed, but not in any natural way. The flesh had contracted, forming a raised, gnarled scar that felt like old tree bark. He fumbled at his hands; his fingers were longer, the black, razor-sharp claws glinting faintly in the dim light. They were no longer human appendages, but living weapons.
A shiver ran down his spine, not of fear, but of a monstrous wonder. He shifted, trying to sit up. A searing agony tore through his joints, but immediately, he felt the muscle tissues stretching, repairing, adapting to the change. A burning sensation coursed through his arm, and the veins beneath his skin pulsed, emitting a faint, eerie green glow. He focused, and the claw on his thumb abruptly elongated by an inch, then retracted.
"I... I can control this." His voice was hoarse, alien.
But with this new power came a gnawing, insatiable hunger. It wasn't the ordinary pangs of starvation, but a ravenous craving for organic matter, a primal need to sustain his transformation and fuel his growth. It gnawed at him from within, urging him to seek.
Rune pushed himself, his new claws digging into the damp concrete, dragging his pain-racked, mutated body forward. He crawled out of the crevice, emerging into a desolate corridor of what used to be his old base. The scene was pure devastation: shattered furniture, charred electronics, and the lingering, metallic tang of dried blood. Clearly, his betrayers had cleaned up thoroughly, leaving nothing to trace them.
Distant growls signaled the presence of mutated creatures. Rune stumbled forward, his body still weak, but his blazing red eyes were now locked onto prey. A Maneater Rat – a mutated rodent the size of a wolf, with fur as hard as steel and grotesque teeth – lunged from the shadows.
"Die!" Rune roared, swinging his arm. His claw-like hand whistled through the air, embedding itself straight into the Maneater Rat's head. Bone and flesh exploded. It collapsed, twitching a few times before going still.
A chilling yet vital surge of energy flowed from the creature's corpse into Rune's body. The unnatural hunger subsided slightly, and he felt a surge of strength in his veins. He knelt, touching the Maneater Rat's carcass. His fingers seemed to move on their own, stripping away its fur and grotesquely contorting its body. A shadowy aura enveloped Rune, and when he stood, his skin felt slightly tougher, denser.
Absorption. He could absorb biomass from dead organisms to empower himself.
Rune continued to drag himself through the ruined corridors, every monster's growl an invitation for his newfound ability. He hunted, fought, and absorbed. Each time, the agony of transformation lessened, replaced by a growing sense of control. He was no longer the old Rune, but something else—something more terrifying, more powerful, and utterly unbound by any human rules or morality.
When he reached the main exit, everything was sealed off by a thick concrete wall and barbed wire. This was how they wanted him to die, buried in darkness and decay. But he wasn't one to accept such a fate. Rune stepped back, his red eyes blazing as he surveyed the wall. He raised his hands, his fingers twisting into massive, hardened claws, sharp as drills. He roared, slamming them into the concrete.
CRACK!
The wall trembled, cracks spiderwebbing across its surface. He continued. Every punch, every claw mark, carried the full weight of his unleashed fury. The abundant power from the absorbed creatures allowed him to do the impossible.
Finally, with a sickening shriek, a hole large enough appeared. Rune squeezed through, breathing in the free air, even if it still reeked of death. He stood on a ruined street, towering, crooked buildings casting long shadows under the grim night sky.
He looked towards the horizon, towards the city center, where he knew Vorn, Seraphina, and Thanos were hiding, enjoying the "throne" they had stolen. A cruel, twisted smile stretched across Rune's face, barely visible beneath the pulsing, blue-veined skin.
"You've made the greatest mistake of your lives," Rune whispered, his voice hoarse but filled with chilling authority. "I am your nightmare. And I will be the last predator."
He was back. And the reckoning would begin.