The mass of red Eitra swelled in Inspector "Thorn's" hand like a miniature sun, oozing the color of corrupted blood and radiating a heat that seared faces from meters away.
The air in Warehouse 42 was no longer just a gas to breathe; it had turned into blazing plasma, a viscous liquid boiling inside my lungs.
The corrugated metal walls surrounding us began to glow orange and groan under the immense pressure, and the raindrops leaking from the ceiling evaporated before they could touch the ground, leaving behind clouds of suffocating steam.
"I will crush you! I will burn this entire city and lay your ashes as a carpet for my masters!"
Thorn roared, his voice no longer human.
It sounded more like a jet engine tearing itself apart from within.
The black veins bulging across his body pulsed with madness, and his eyes had turned into pools of absolute darkness.
I lay in the mud, pressing my trembling hand against my chest, which had been torn open by Vargas's acidic claws.
