Gira watched the crimson monster muster a weak smile in his reflection. It had to seriously hunch down to reach his head in order to whisper softly into his ear.

“There’s resounding violence beyond these walls,” it whispered as the sound of the Fulgurjaw slamming into the side of the building was matched with gunfire. “Let me come out and play. All we need is blood. Any blood—filthy, fresh, animal, or even of our kin. We must gorge ourselves on scarlet treats.”

“Wait,” Gira shook his head. “What’s with all this “we” talk? What are you?” he asked. “Also, no stupid cryptic answers, please!” he demanded.

“We are a Coarseblood. We need living ichor to manifest per the unsightly rules of our creation. Unless we wish to ignite ablaze in the fires of calamity.” It answered vaguely.

“You almost gave me a good answer. Almost, but the second half was super unnecessary, you goof!” Gira replied, clearly annoyed by the crimson monster. "Jeez—now I have like a million questions…”

The Coarseblood expression changed, and its smile dropped a little. “Sorry, it’s just there’s a lot of rules and—”

“I don’t need to know them right now.” Gira cut in. “I can’t believe I'm not safe from exposition. Not even from myself.” He said in a defeated tone. “Plus, why would I need your help right now? They seem to be doing fine out there. I think..,”

“Hmmmm, how are we so sure they’re fine?” It asked while leaning in closer. “What of the nice girl? What if they died?”

“Oh, glad you asked that. But before I answer, can you explain to me what death entails?” Gira asked, causing the crimson monster to reel away.

“Oh. Our understanding of concepts seems oddly selective.”

“Yeah and?” Gira retorted, staring blankly at the Coarseblood.

The two continued to banter in the restroom, unaware that just behind one wall was Siegwick preparing himself to head out. They had spotted something in the security cameras of the north tower’s garage. Activating his comms, he spoke sternly, “The Anomaly has breached the perimeter. It is currently hiding within the northeast tower’s garage. The Pelamüs within has been infected. Await my command. Do not approach!”

Lucas sat in the corner of the room, his face buried in his hands as Lena comforted him.

“Russo kids, stay out of this one.” Siegwick commanded firmly.

“B-but that’s my friend...” Lucas mumbled, his puffy red eyes staring at the monitor that displayed Shredder convulsing violently. A wild swing from its changing body smashed into the camera, cutting off the feed.

"Lena, make sure your brother doesn’t do anything stupid. We’re dealing with an intelligent contaigent. Purge orders are final!” Siegwick coldly commanded her.

“Y-yes sir.” She replied weakly, holding her brother close.

"Saul, keep me updated on the Anomalies status!” Siegwick barked at the other ranger in the room.

“Yes sir!” Saul sharply answered.

Siegwick made his way outside, dropping an empty Kyyr booster ampule by Denver as he exited the building. His muscles rippled unnaturally as he stepped out under the crimson-shattered sky.

To his right, he could see Serfet, Radomir, Ribbon, Carmela, Will, and Zoya trying their best to close in on the Fulgurjaw, its body erupting with violent bursts of azure lightning. The display was fierce and unpredictable as the Fulgurjaw slammed its massive frame around, its draconic lightning defying nature as it was conducted through the ground below, blowing up and turning bits of gravel into deadly projectiles.

Damn lizards! Siegwick thought to himself before turning his attention to the north tower. It’s form was hazy, shrouded in the smoke from the burning Rak’da’s body. The fumes were sinister, thick, and vile, bathed in the eerie red light. His eyes narrowed with a frown.

There.

Emerging from within the dilapidated tower, Siegwick saw the Anomaly take shape. Its translucent, pale skin gleamed under the crimson light, slick with dark red blood. Twisted tendrils writhed around its body, methodically cleaning the grotesque form as its overgrown, foggy white eyes watched the squads below with eerie stillness.

Siegwick wasted no time. He charged his Kyyr ability, Impact Boreas., and his arm became encased in icey armor, sharp blades of frost extending outward. With a forceful grip, he tore the frozen blades free, warping the Kyyr into fine, deadly weapons. Without hesistation, Siegwick marched onward toward the tower, his cold resolve incarnate through icey Kyyr.

Meanwhile, inside the station, Gira was still chatting with the thing in the mirror, asking it a series of stupid questions.

“If you’re really me then…” Gira began, “What’s my favorite food?”

“I don’t know,” it replied.

“What’s my favorite animal?”

“I don’t know.”

“My name?”

“Gira.”

“My birth date?”

“I do not know.” It answered flatly.

Gira put a hand on his chin, thinking. “My favorite color?”

“I don’t know.”

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

Damn! He’s good. Gira thought to himself.

Even though it lacked the organs to really emote, the Coarseblood exuded an air of pity as it watched Gira fumble through his interrogation. “Say, shouldn’t we at least know the answer to some of the questions we’re asking?”

Gira’s eyes widened as the realization hit him, a slight blush creeping onto his face. "Ah," he said as he looked at the Coarseblood. “You’re so right—hmm.” He thought for a second, “Then how about I ask you questions?”

“That’s what we were doing before,” it answered flatly.

“Oh—right… Then what about a name?” Gira asked with a smile.

“I’m you, so my name would be Gira too,” it said, raising its hand to point at Gira.

“Yeah, but that’ll get super confusing for me!” Gira answered, mimicking the pointing.

“You know this type of chat is going to be a pretty rare thing, right?” The Coarseblood said.

“Can I give you a nickname or something anyway?” Gira pleaded.

“I-I mean, sure. Just give me something cool.”

“R E D,” Gira said, waving his hand whimsically as if he were drawing a rainbow.

“No, that’s just lazy.”

“Uhhh. How about B L O O D M A N?”

“NO! That one’s just lame.”

“Ugh, do you have suggestions?”

“How about S A V A G R I O S?” it replied, mimicking Gira’s little hand wave of whimsy.

“Ehh, but that sounds just as dumb as Bloodman?”

The shattered cracks on its face seemed to react to his comment. Almost as if it were frowning at Gira. “It’s not as lame as Bloodman?! What are you on about?!” it asked with a growl, baring its fangs at Gira.

“Oh wow, okay, sheesh. Sore spot—fine, I’ll call you ‘Savagrios’.” Gira surredered to the name. "But what about the other hands I saw? You’re clearly the red hand I pulled out. What about the other ones?”

“That’s just more of us.” Savagrios answered bluntly.

“Hmm, okay, are they all just as chatty?” Gira asked.

“Who knows. But I’m glad I was the first pick. Not a fan of the seven-finger creep though.” Savagrios replied.

“Oh yeah, where’s that ‘me’?” Gira asked.

“I do not know.”

“Oh well, I guess he’ll pop out sooner or later.” Gira paused, then asked. “Oh, right. How do I use you?”.

“Consume blood; the rest should come to you like instinct.” Savagrios answered.

“Awww, but blood doesn’t sound too tasty. How much should I even drink?”

“Enough to become as big as me.” Savagrios said while pointing at himself.

“WHAT?!” Gira exclaimed in shock. “I can’t fit all that in my stomach?!”

"Oh, don’t worry, us Coarsebloods have an extradimensional slot in our stomachs exclusively designed to hold our construct catalyst.” Savagrios explained, waving his claw around casually, as if it were completely normal.

"Ummm, well, that’s kind of cool. I guess. How much can I keep in there?” Gira asked, pointing at his stomach.

“Who knows. But I should warn, it needs to be blood from things with Kyyr. So they have to be pretty sentient,” Savagrios explained.

“Can I get some examp—” Gira started, but his question was cut off as the wall down the hallway collapsed, the Fulgurjaw slamming into the building.

“That thing works!” Savagrios shouted in the back of Gira’s mind, his hunger spiking as he watched the beast flail around. “I can use some of our own blood, but there’s a limit for us.”

“Alright…” Gira mumbled, as glops of saliva began to pour from his mouth. “Why am I so hungry?”

“I’m pretty desperate, so I’m giving you some hunger pans. Good luck; try not to eat any of the people.” Savagrios mischieviously whispered as his presence faded.

“Wha-What?! A forced event!” Gira exclaimed loudly, gaining the enmity of the Fulgurjaw. “Uh oh.”

The next 15 seconds were all experienced in slow motion as the Fulgurjaw lunged at Gira, who leapt backward into the cramped one-room bathroom. The dreary little hallway exploded as the Fulgurjaw’s draconic Kyyr blasted forward, its jaws erupting as they clamped at the bathroom entrance, sending Gira flying into through the wall of the bathroom. His little body crashed through the surprisingly thin walls, his body impacting all sorts of sharp pokey bits as he went flying over both Lucas and Lena, who were reeling in shock from the explosion as they watched Gira fly across the room.

Gira, dazed, didn’t feel any immediate pain and even managed to smile at the two as he thumped against the fancy crystal table in the middle of the room. Shrapnel scattered in all directions, while the Rak’datore through more of the building. Outside, the rangers scrambled to strike the monster as it flailed around inside the station.

Gira hit the table with a loud thud, flailing in pain. “AHHHH, that hurt so much!” he shouted, clutching the side of his body that had slammed into the table.

“Gira?!” Lucas shouted in shock.

"Oh, so the bathroom was behind that wall.” Gira reamarked as he stood up, his eyes flashing crimson and blue. The hunger twisting his guts as he saw the people in the room. “Ugh. We’ll catch up later Lucas. I’m currently on a sidequest.”

“What?!” Both siblings shouted as Gira seemed to recover, pushing past the two and running back in the direction of the thundering Rak’da.

Man, I’ve got like zero agency over my life… Gira thought, holding his stomach as he rushed past the rubble. The Fulgurjaw had retreated back outside, where Serfet sliced its arm clean off—only for the tendrils to immediately reattach back on as it exploded in a burst of blue lightning.

How the heck do I even approach that? Gira wondered before the instinct to devour seemed to overtake him a little as he found himself running in, Kyyr naturally flowing to his legs as he picked up speed.

The Fulgurjaw had now become more aggressive in response to its arm being blown off as it charged its body with Kyyr. It burst forward with blinding speed, its tail violently whipping Ribbon and her barreling into the nearby fence. Her armor shattered from the impact; lucky for her, the fence had absorbed some of the force, leaving her barely alive.

“Ribbon!” Zoya shouted, rushing over to pull her away from the ire of the Fulgurjaw.

“ZOYA!” Will yelled as he tried to intercept the Fulgurjaw’s thundering tail strike, as it had anticipated someone would attempt to save the poor girl. With his Kyyr ability, he veered off the strike. But the blow sent him flying into the station.

Zoya recoiled, realizing her mistake too late—she was already within the Fulgurjaw’s range. The monster poised its body in for a strike, but from seemingly nowhere a crimson flash dug at its feet. The cut was deep, causing the massive beast to struggle under the weight of its own body.

The rangers were in shock as the massive Rak’da collapsed temporarily, incapacitated. Following the trail of blood, a figure stood. Bathed in the crimson glow of the shattered sky, their eyes widened in fear—it was Gira. Using his own blood, his body had changed. The lower half of his face had transformed. Like a vile mask, he now wore the jaws of Savagrios. His eyes rolled back in ecstasy as he swallowed the flesh he’d just bitten off. The twisted jaw curled into a grotesque smile as his long, spiky tongue flopped out, dripping with saliva.

Will looked at the figure, his face twisting in disbelief. “What the fuck?”

The Fulgurjaw moved flesh around its body, mending its wound as it stood once more, now focused on Gira. The two locked eyes, the bleeding light of the shattered sky intensifying Gira’s excitement. The bliss of consumption filled his body as the freshly consumed flesh twisted his fingers into crimson claws.

Without further hesitation, the Fulgurjaw charged at Gira, with the force of a storm. The ground trembled beneath its weight as it slammed into him, a surge of draconic lightning crackling through the air, propelling its immense power into the thunderous strike.