As Damian approached Sasha, her mutterings grew louder, barely coherent but filled with venom. Her words spilled out like bile, her mind lost in a drug-induced haze. She repeatedly whispered the names "Kessler" and "Cole," her voice tinged with obsession and hatred. But the darkest part of her ranting was reserved for Trish.
"She thinks she's better than me," Sasha hissed, her body twitching as she clawed at the air. "They love her, not me... But I'll kill her! I'll make sure Cole sees her die—then he’ll finally love me."
Damian sighed internally. He had hoped for a less messy encounter, but surrounded by a growing number of Reapers, it was clear that bloodshed was inevitable. Sasha's forces were too loyal to stand down, and their deranged state would only amplify the chaos.
The Dark Stalker, having remained hidden until this moment, materialized at the entrance, its hulking form now visible. It stood guard, cutting off any potential reinforcements from entering the chamber. The Reapers, seeing this strange creature appear, turned their attention to it.
Without hesitation, Damian acted. As the Reapers lunged toward the Dark Stalker, he sprang into motion, his body shifting as bladed tendrils erupted from his back, slashing through the air with deadly precision. He targeted each Reaper methodically, his strikes swift and controlled. With Trish’s medical knowledge guiding him, Damian used his tendrils to attack their sciatic nerves, immobilizing them without killing them outright. Each Reaper dropped to the ground, incapacitated but alive, unable to continue their attack.
The room was soon littered with bodies, twitching but not dead. Damian wasn’t here to slaughter needlessly—these Reapers would belong to him once Sasha joined the collective, so why waste them?
Sasha, meanwhile, had stood from her throne-like chair, the tubes that had connected her to the tar pumps now dangling uselessly from her sides. Her eyes were wide, her pupils dilated, as she swayed on her feet. In her drugged, hysterical state, she let out a manic scream, her voice echoing through the tunnel.
"Who are you?! Did she send you?!" Sasha’s voice cracked, the hatred dripping from every word. "Trish—she sent you to kill me, didn’t she?! She wants Cole for herself, but he’ll never love her! I’ll be the one he loves, not her!"
Damian stood calmly, watching as Sasha spiraled further into madness. He waited a beat, letting her rant, before he shifted back into his normal form. His Reaper disguise melted away, revealing the familiar shape and features.
He smirked slightly, his voice steady and unbothered. "I don’t think Cole or Kessler whichever name you want to use likes you, Sasha. He might sleep with you, sure... but love? I doubt it." He shook his head, his words deliberate. "You're just a means to an end for him that he sometimes uses for pleasure, nothing more. And deep down, you know it. You have to know it by now."
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Sasha's face contorted in a mixture of fury and disbelief. She stumbled toward Damian, her eyes wild and her breathing erratic. "Lies!" she shrieked. "You're lying! He loves me—he will love me! I'll make sure of it!"
Damian took a step forward, his expression calm. "You're delusional, Sasha. But I’m not here to talk about Cole or Kessler. I’m here for you so you’re coming with me, whether you like it or not."
Sasha’s eyes flickered with recognition as she finally registered Damian's presence, her manic energy faltering for just a moment. But her desperation was palpable, and in her drugged state, she wasn't going to go quietly.
Damian barely had time to take a step before Sasha vanished, her body consumed by the dark tar. She reappeared across the room in an instant, her voice echoing through the chamber. "You think you can just take me? Like I’m some prize to be won?"
Her eyes were wild, glowing with manic fury, and with a sudden burst of power, she hurled a sphere of dark energy straight at him. Damian sidestepped, his body already morphing as bladed tendrils erupted from his back, blocking the attack with a swift motion. But the moment the sphere collided with his defenses, it exploded, sending a shockwave through the air that forced Damian back a few steps.
Before he could recover, Sasha vanished again, reappearing behind him. Her claws gleamed as she swiped at his neck, aiming to decapitate him. Damian ducked just in time, spinning around to counter with a tendril swipe of his own, but she teleported out of reach once more, laughing maniacally.
“I’ll rip you apart!" Sasha snarled, her voice dripping with venom. "You think you’re better than me? That I’m weak? I’ll show you!”
In a rapid motion, Sasha slammed her hands into the ground, and black tar burst from the floor, forming multiple tentacles that shot toward Damian. He leaped back, but the tar tendrils pursued him, growing larger and faster with each passing second. One wrapped around his ankle, yanking him off his feet. The moment it made contact, the hallucinations started.
Faces from Damian’s past—victims, enemies, even allies—swirled in his vision, their grotesque, distorted forms screaming accusations at him. The ground beneath him turned to sludge, pulling him deeper into the illusion. The weight of the hallucinations pressed down on him, suffocating, their voices drowning out everything.
But Damian wasn’t one to be taken so easily. He roared, his body pulsating with energy as his biomass flared. The tendrils on his back shifted into massive claws, slicing through the tar tentacle that held him. The hallucinations wavered, and he forced them back, his regeneration purging the toxins from his system.
Sasha’s laughter echoed through the tunnel. “You think you’re strong, but you’re just a puppet, just like the rest! You’re no better than any of them!”
Damian’s eyes narrowed, focusing on Sasha’s erratic teleportation patterns. She was fast, but predictable. He waited for the right moment, watching as she reappeared again, hurling another barrage of energy orbs toward him. These spheres crackled with a dark, malevolent energy, homing in on his position with terrifying speed.
Instead of dodging, Damian shifted his arms into shields, the thick biomass absorbing the impact. Each explosion sent tremors through his body, but he remained standing, unmoved. The moment the last orb detonated, he made his move.
He lunged forward with blinding speed, his body morphing mid-stride. His arms became elongated blades, and his tendrils coiled behind him like a serpent poised to strike. Sasha blinked out of sight again, but Damian was ready. He swung his tendrils in a wide arc, anticipating her next move, and as she reappeared behind him, his tendrils lashed out, wrapping around her midsection.
Sasha screamed, her body struggling against the constricting tendrils, but Damian tightened his grip, lifting her off the ground. “I’m not here to talk, Sasha,” he growled. “I’m here to end this.”