Pain.
Overwhelming.
All-consuming.
Even with his reinforced physique, Steven felt like his entire body was being torn apart from the inside out.
It wasn't unfamiliar.
This pain—
It was the price of his power.
Steven possessed the ability to channel and convert dark energy directly through his body.
That energy could be shaped into overwhelming physical strength, explosive speed, and abnormal durability.
Unlike most mutants, his power had no defined upper limit.
The more he drew in—
The stronger he became.
However—
His body was never meant to contain it.
Every surge came at a cost.
The energy didn't simply flow through him…
It burned.
His veins darkened.
His muscles tore under the strain.
His internal organs slowly degraded the longer he maintained high output.
Yet—
Steven never showed it.
No pain.
No hesitation.
No fear.
Because what made him truly dangerous was not just his power—
But his control.
He could suppress reactions.
Shut down emotions.
Ignore limits that would instantly destroy others.
To an opponent like Nocthar…
He was a contradiction.
A being with immense power—
But nothing to feed on.
Then—
Something changed.
A violent surge of dark energy erupted from his broken, mangled body.
It spread rapidly, coursing through the torn, blackened veins etched across his flesh, flowing along every muscle line like liquid shadow.
The effect was immediate.
His body began to repair itself.
Not slowly—
But violently.
Flesh pulled together.
Bones realigned.
Muscles stitched themselves back into place like scattered fragments of a puzzle being forcefully reassembled.
The process was unnatural.
Brutal.
Efficient.
And it didn't stop there.
His frame expanded.
Muscles swelled.
His already tall figure grew larger… and larger…
Until he finally stabilized at nearly 2.7 meters in height.
He rose to his feet.
Slowly.
A pulse of terrifying pressure spread outward from his body, distorting the air around him.
His eyes turned completely black.
Vein-like patterns extended from them, crawling across his face and down his body, seamlessly merging with the thick, pitch-black veins that now bulged beneath his skin.
What remained of his clothing tore apart effortlessly, unable to withstand the transformation.
Fragments fell away.
Leaving behind a figure that no longer felt entirely human.
Steven stood still.
Expressionless.
Empty.
Like a machine given form.
It was as if every trace of emotion had been erased.
Nocthar watched everything.
From the first spike of energy—
To the complete transformation.
His yellow eyes narrowed slightly.
Intrigued.
The increase in power?
Not surprising.
The physical change?
Expected.
But this—
This absence of emotion…
That was different.
He couldn't sense anything.
Not fear.
Not anger.
Not even intent.
Just…
Nothing.
And that—
Made him cautious.
Because any being capable of enduring his earlier assault and rising again like this…
Was not something to take lightly.
A slow grin spread across his face.
Twisted.
Excited.
He began to clap.
The sound echoed through the room—wet, uneven—his bloodied hands striking together in clear amusement.
"Well…"
His voice was calm, yet laced with cruelty.
"Looks like there's some bite here after all."
His posture shifted instantly.
The laziness disappeared.
Replaced by sharp focus.
Every muscle in his body coiled with intent as his presence grew colder—more dangerous.
Then he spoke again, his tone dropping into something darker.
"Now we find out…"
His grin widened.
"Whether that bite belongs to a tiger—"
A pause.
"Or a guinea pig."
The air twisted—
Then Nocthar vanished.
Not a blur.
Not a trace.
Just… gone.
In the next instant, he reappeared beside Steven, his movement driven purely by speed. His body was already aligned into the same striking posture he had used before—only this time, there was more force behind it.
More intent.
More weight.
His fist shot forward.
A terrifying punch aimed directly at Steven's left ribcage.
It connected.
Clang.
The sound rang out unnaturally.
Not the dull impact of flesh against flesh—
But something harder.
Denser.
Like metal being struck with immense force.
Nocthar's expression shifted instantly.
For the first time—
Bewilderment.
It felt like he had just punched solid steel.
Steven hadn't moved.
Not even slightly.
No recoil.
No reaction.
Nothing.
Nocthar didn't hesitate.
He pressed forward immediately, launching a relentless barrage of attacks.
Punch after punch—
Each strike heavier than the last.
Brutal.
Precise.
Unforgiving.
The room trembled under the force of his assault as his fists hammered into Steven's body without pause.
Seconds passed.
Five.
Ten.
Fifteen.
Nearly twenty seconds of continuous offense—
Yet—
There was no feedback.
No resistance.
No damage.
No response.
It was like attacking something that simply refused to acknowledge his existence.
Nocthar's movements slowed.
Then stopped.
His eyes narrowed slightly.
This…
Was wrong.
Very wrong.
He considered creating distance.
Repositioning.
Reassessing the situation.
But before the thought could fully form—
Something moved.
A shadow.
Fast.
Too fast.
It flashed past his side—
And in that same instant—
A fist appeared.
Condensed power gathered into a single, devastating point.
Then—
Impact.
A brutal blow drove straight toward his chest.
Nocthar's sixth sense warned him before the attack even arrived.
He casually sidestepped, leaving the strike's trajectory empty as if the punch had never existed. The attack slammed into the ground instead, turning the impact site into a deep pit, spider-web cracks radiating outward with terrifying speed.
Steven rose from his punching stance, repositioned, and stomped his left foot on the ground. In a blur, he flashed towards Nocthar at near-light speed, following it up with a sonic boom of an attack—again casually dodged by his opponent.
The two became afterimages of themselves, one relentlessly attacking while the other weaved and gauged, anticipating every movement.
A storm of punches filled the battlefield, rhythmically colliding with invisible defenses, until Nocthar, sensing he had mastered the timing, allowed himself a moment of relaxation.
That moment of carelessness proved fatal. One of Steven's punches slipped within striking distance. But this time, it was different.
Dark energy surged through Steven's arm, reshaping it into a grotesque, muscular weapon that pulsed with raw power. The attack amplified exponentially, horrifying in both size and force.
Nocthar's eyes widened. He could see it coming, but it was too close, too fast—there was no time for a countermeasure.