In the dimly lit, sterile room, Carn had been trapped in an icy grip, confined to a chilling metal chair. His determination simmered beneath the surface as he patiently awaited the perfect moment to unleash his plan of escape. The air hung heavy with tension, electrifying every nerve in his body.
Finally, an opportunity presented itself, as if fate had conspired in his favor as a surgeon removed the oxygen mask. The surgeons, their attention momentarily diverted, unwittingly dropped their guard. With a lightning-quick reflex, Carn seized the moment, his instincts taking over as he spit the piece of his tongue into the air. He unleashed a battle cry that reverberated through the room, his voice carrying the weight of his desperation. "Satellite Warp!"
In an instant, Carn's body vanished from the chair and reappeared above the operating table, free from his restraints. His adrenaline surged as he saw the fear in the surgeons' eyes. With a fierce cry, he slammed his foot into the head surgeon's face, the impact echoing throughout the room. It felt as if his foot had collided with concrete, his bones cracking with the force of the blow.
The pain was intense, but Carn pushed through it, fueled by the rush of the moment. He felt his foot snap back into place as if it had never been broken. The surgeons stared at him with surprise and anger in their eyes. "I won't be anyone's lab rat," he growled.
The demonic pole in the corner hummed with power, and its red light washed over the room. During the hours Carn was operated on he realized that the statue would heal all his wounds with remarkable speed.
The surgeons, shaken from their initial shock, swiftly snapped out of their stupor and redirected their focus towards their former patient. The commanding voice of the head surgeon pierced the tense air, its tone an enigma that defied identification. "Incapacitate him by any means necessary," they declared, their words laced with a chilling determination.
Silently, the surgeons assumed battle-ready positions, their bodies poised with lethal grace. A strange, otherworldly aura enveloped their hands, casting an ominous crimson glow that seemed to distort the very fabric of reality. The energy pulsated with such intensity that the air itself quivered as if attempting to recoil from the raw power being harnessed.
Sensing the urgency of the situation, Carn's mind raced, his instincts kicking into overdrive. He knew he had to act swiftly, with razor-sharp precision. Yet, before he could even blink, one of the surgeons lunged at him, their movement a blur of determined aggression. In their hand, a syringe blazed with a vibrant orange luminescence, a harbinger of peril. Carn's eyes widened in alarm as he deftly evaded the incoming strike, narrowly avoiding the deadly injection.
Seizing the split-second opportunity, Carn unleashed a lightning-fast counterattack. With a fluid motion, he unleashed a swift, well-aimed kick, targeting the surgeon's outstretched wrist. The impact reverberated through the room, a resounding testament to Carn's unwavering resolve. The glowing syringe was forcibly dislodged from the surgeon's grip, spiraling through the air before clattering to the cold, sterile floor.
In that single breathless moment, resolute defiance coursed through Carn's veins, his every fiber aflame with determination. The battle had only just begun, and he was ready to face whatever awaited him.
Carn's gaze lifted, revealing a disconcerting sight. Four surgeons had formed an impenetrable ring around him, their hands pulsating with an eerie, incandescent crimson glow. Among them, the head surgeon positioned themselves strategically, cunningly blocking any potential escape route. There was an air of unwavering pressure about them, a silent promise of unyielding opposition.
In an instant, the surgeons launched themselves into a relentless assault, a synchronized dance of lethal precision. From every angle, their attacks descended upon Carn, an onslaught of calculated ferocity. Their movements flowed seamlessly, each strike a testament to their honed expertise. As their hands sliced through the air, a chilling symphony of sound reverberated, sharp, and intimidating, sending shivers down Carn's spine.
The swiftness of their motions created a gust of wind, a tangible force that brushed against Carn's skin, leaving a trail of icy sensation in its wake. The very atmosphere seemed to quiver with their power, as if acknowledging the overwhelming might they possessed. Carn knew all too well the extent of his disadvantage. They were superior in strength, resilience, and speed, a formidable adversary by any measure.
But deep within Carn, a flicker of hope burned relentlessly. His gaze darted to the demonic pole, a weapon of sinister origin that held within it an unimaginable healing power. With a steely resolve, he accepted the unthinkable. To gain the upper hand, he would willingly sacrifice his own limbs, embracing the pain as a necessary sacrifice.
In that perilous moment, Carn's mind accepted the gruesome bargain. The demonic pole would grant him a fearsome advantage, enabling him to inflict damage upon the surgeons even as he endured devastating wounds. His body would become a conduit for both suffering and retribution, an instrument of vengeance fueled by the relentless pursuit of victory.
Carn propelled himself forward, determination fueling his every move, as he unleashed a vicious kick aimed at the nearest surgeon. But his adversary was no ordinary opponent. With an unnerving grace, the surgeon effortlessly evaded Carn's attack, retaliating with lightning speed. The surgeon's hand sliced through the air, a deadly arc that tore through Carn's shoulder. Agonizing pain erupted through his being, the sensation of flesh rending and bones nearing the brink of separation. A scream of anguish tore from Carn's lips, an echo of his resilience amidst the torment.
Yet, in the face of such brutal injury, a mesmerizing glow enveloped the demonic pole, its radiance intensified by the desperation of the moment. A palpable surge of power surged through Carn's body, knitting torn muscles and mending ravaged skin with astounding speed. The healing force swept over him like a wave of rejuvenation, granting him a respite from his agony. In the blink of an eye, his arm reformed, resolute, and ready to retaliate.
Harnessing the renewed strength coursing through him, Carn unleashed a devastating punch, propelled by a raw, primal fury. The blow connected with an explosive impact, a resounding crack that echoed through the air. The surgeon faltered, the glow of their hands momentarily flickering, as the force of Carn's strike rattled their equilibrium.
Ever the opportunist, Carn seized upon the precious opening, his eyes scanning the battlefield for a weapon. His gaze fell upon a bone saw, discarded on the floor, and with a deft movement, he infused it with an ethereal orange aura, the Serrated Aura. With a swift, merciless slash, Carn unleashed a torrent of crimson from the surgeon's abdomen, a gushing wound spilling rivulets of crimson life. Staggering backward, the surgeon clutched their stomach, consumed by searing agony.
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A warning whistling sound pierced the air, a harbinger of danger hurtling toward Carn's neck. Instinctively, he dropped to the floor, narrowly evading the lethal trajectory. His eyes scanned the surroundings, seeking a countermeasure, and they landed upon a discarded scalpel. With a flick of his hand, Carn sent the scalpel hurtling through the air, an unpredictable projectile aimed at the surgeon who had narrowly missed his neck. Miraculously, the surgeon evaded the deadly blade with inhuman agility.
Unyielding in his pursuit, Carn, guided by an uncanny sense of timing, exploited the mid-flight moment. In a swift, seamless motion, he teleported to the path of the scalpel, harnessing its momentum to deliver a forceful kick to the surgeon's temple. The impact reverberated, causing the surgeon's head to snap violently to the side. Yet, with an almost supernatural resilience, the surgeon swiftly recovered, retaliating with a swift swipe of their hand, severing Carn’s arm that held the bone saw at the elbow.
Carn unleashed a primal roar, a mix of pain and determination, that echoed through the battlefield. Despite his agonizing injuries, he remained resolute, a symbol of resilience amidst the chaos.
Grasping the scalpel with unwavering resolve, Carn swiftly threw it towards the surgeon, aiming for a fatal blow. With a teleportation-like move, he appeared next to the scalpel's path, executing precise movements. Slashing viciously, he left a deep, bloody gash across the surgeon's throat. The room turned into a grim scene as blood filled the air, urging Carn to dodge the spurts of crimson life essence.
As the scalpel was removed, Carn felt searing pain, signifying the loss of yet another limb as a red hand was brought down through his shoulder. Enduring the agony, he witnessed his severed arm regenerating before his eyes, a manifestation of the demonic pole’s ever-growing light. However, the respite was short-lived as the remaining arm faced imminent amputation. Collapsing to the ground, Carn's unwavering spirit remained evident.
Evading the surgeon's next attack with agility, Carn summoned his remaining strength, gripping the bone saw that was once his own appendage. Radiating an orange aura and with desperate determination, he swung it, tearing into the surgeon's thigh and inflicting injury. The surgeon stumbled, momentarily weakened.
Capitalizing on the opportunity, Carn seized the moment, transforming the bone saw into a weapon of finality. In a swift, brutal motion, he aimed for the surgeon's neck, beheading them and ending their life. The surgeon's head flew across the room, accompanied by a tide of blood, serving as a stark reminder of Carn's unwavering defiance.
Carn's unwavering gaze locked onto the last two surgeons, their eyes gleaming with a mix of caution and relentless determination. A foreboding aura enveloped their hands, pulsating with an otherworldly glow. The battlefield crackled with tension as Carn realized the dire straits he found himself in. The use of his satellite warp ability had taken its toll, leaving him with limited uses and tricks, while the two surgeons remained largely unscathed. Yet, the indomitable fire within him refused to be extinguished.
His fingers clenched tightly around the bone saw, a makeshift weapon forged in the crucible of desperation. With a surge of resolve, Carn unleashed a swift, brutal swing aimed at one of the surgeons' heads. However, in a display of unnerving agility, the surgeon effortlessly evaded the impending strike. Before Carn could react, the surgeon retaliated with a merciless slash, severing one of his legs in a fierce, unforgiving motion.
Carn crumbled, his body crashing against the unforgiving ground, a testament to the agony that surged through his being. Yet, the pole’s power of regeneration took hold, a flurry of regeneration that defied the limits of mortal flesh. As his leg swiftly reformed beneath him, a symphony of regeneration unfolded, muscles, sinews, and bones knitting back together in a mesmerizing display of resilience.
With an unyielding will burning within him, Carn propelled himself forward, the bone saw cutting through the air with deadly intent. The surgeon retreated, narrowly evading the biting teeth of the weapon, but Carn refused to relent. He pursued relentlessly, his every movement driven by an unquenchable thirst for triumph. Eventually, the surgeon faltered, stumbling under the unrelenting pressure.
In a sweeping arc, Carn brought the bone saw down upon the surgeon's chest, its serrated edge tearing through flesh and bone alike. A vivid gash blossomed, crimson spilling forth as a testament to Carn's resilience and ferocity.
Undeterred by the agony that coursed through their veins, the injured surgeon surged forward, a fury burning in their eyes. With lightning speed, their fist lanced toward Carn's chest, a blow aimed at crippling his resolve. Reacting with instinctive agility, Carn sidestepped, narrowly evading the devastating strike as it ripped the skin from his chest. In a sudden twist, he hurled a bone saw toward the surgeon's head, a whirlwind of lethal potential. With a fraction of a second to spare, the surgeon ducked, narrowly evading the lethal trajectory.
Anticipation etched across their face, the surgeon glanced back, expecting Carn to materialize behind them. However, to their astonishment, Carn defied their expectations. A predator lurking in the shadows of their perception, he delivered a blistering right hook, a punch fueled by unrelenting force. Bones crunched beneath the impact, the surgeon's head jerking violently to the side as they crumbled to the unforgiving ground, defeated by the sheer force of Carn's vengeance.
In a whirlwind of motion, the last surgeon surged forth, a tempest of fists hurtling towards Carn with lightning speed. Like a dancer in the midst of a deadly symphony, Carn evaded the onslaught, his body a testament to his nimble reflexes. His gaze scanned the room, searching for a weapon to tip the scales in his favor. A glint of opportunity caught his eye—a sturdy surgical tray resting on a nearby table. Without hesitation, he seized it and hurled it towards the charging surgeon.
With a resounding impact, the tray crashed against the surgeon's midsection, an abrupt disruption of force that knocked the wind out of his assailant's sails. The surgeon staggered, momentarily disoriented, and their assault momentarily halted.
Carn seized the precious moment, his predatory instincts guiding his every move. In a swift lunge, he closed the distance, driving his serrated blade deep into the surgeon's shoulder. A searing cry of anguish filled the air as pain surged through the surgeon's being. Fueled by the agony, the surgeon retaliated with wild, desperate swings of their crimson fists, a last-ditch effort to turn the tide. Carn gracefully stepped back, narrowly evading the flurry of blows, but not without consequence. One punch connected with brutal force, tearing through Carn's flesh and severing his arm once more, a macabre testament to the surgeon's unyielding determination.
Gritting his teeth against the surging pain, Carn roared in defiance, his voice a symphony of resilience as his arm was quickly restored. Emboldened by his newfound strength, Carn's hand closed around a nearby scalpel, his grip firm and resolute.
Without hesitation, he charged toward the injured surgeon, his movements propelled by a relentless determination. The scalpel found its mark, plunging into the vulnerable expanse of the surgeon's neck. A gasp of agony escaped the surgeon's lips, their trembling hand instinctively reaching to staunch the flow of blood. But it was futile—a torrent of crimson life essence spilled forth, staining the sterile floor in a morbid tapestry. With a final shudder, the surgeon collapsed, their existence snuffed out.
The head surgeon, standing guard at the doorway, let out a disheartened sigh, their voice carrying an eerie, indeterminable quality. "Once again, these pitiful failures prove their utter lack of teamwork or coordination," the words slithered from their lips with a touch of venom, “A report to the boss is in order."
Silence hung in the air, filled with anticipation. The head surgeon's crimson aura, which was confined to the other surgeons' hands started to expand around his body with unsettling intensity. The room seemed to constrict under the weight of malevolence, every atom pulsating with unholy energy. The surge of power sent shivers crawling along the spine, a chilling reminder of the imminent danger that loomed.
The head surgeon locked their gaze upon Carn, their eyes gleaming with an intensity that spoke of sinister intent. The atmosphere grew charged with an invisible tension, a prelude to an impending clash between opposing forces. Their voice dripped with a calculated menace, a twisted anticipation. "That is, after I deal with you."