After finally subduing the last of the Deviants, Noel stood amidst the fallen creatures, his chest heaving with exertion.

His body was smeared in blood, a grim testament to the relentless battle he had just endured.

His eyes, once filled with determination, now burned with a fierce, unrestrained madness.

Noel turned to face David, his gaze piercing.

"Now it's your turn," he growled, his voice low and filled with a feral intensity.

David, standing a short distance away, observed Noel with a mix of admiration and amusement.

"Well, you truly are much better than I had expected," he remarked, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

But Noel had no interest in his words.

They were empty, meaningless noise against the roaring fury within him.

Without a moment's hesitation, Noel broke into a run, his movements fueled by raw, unbridled rage.

His grip on his knife tightened, his knuckles white with the force of it.

The world around him seemed to blur, his vision narrowing to a single point: David.

Guards rushed to intercept him, their weapons drawn and faces set with determination.

But they were mere obstacles, insignificant compared to the burning need for retribution that propelled Noel forward.

He moved with a deadly precision, his knife slashing through the air.

Each guard fell swiftly, their attempts to stop him futile against the storm of his wrath.

Blood sprayed in crimson arcs, and the guards' cries of pain filled the air, but Noel didn't slow.

Each step brought him closer to David, each strike honed his focus.

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The laboratory, once a sterile and controlled environment, was now a battlefield drenched in chaos and bloodshed.

Blood splattered across the ground as Noel cut down the guards, his movements a violent dance of vengeance.

The primal growls that escaped his lips echoed through the night, a chilling testament to the depths of his fury.

David's expression shifted from amusement to something more guarded as Noel closed the distance.

Noel's eyes locked onto him with a deadly focus as he charged.

In an instant, he vanished, reappearing mid-air right in front of his target, his knife poised to strike.

"Just die quietly," he snarled, swinging the blade with lethal precision.

His entire being was consumed with one purpose: to end David, even if it meant breaking the mark’s condition and accepting whatever punishment might follow.

His knife arced through the air, aimed straight for David's neck, the culmination of all his rage and pain.

But just as the blade was about to connect, something unseen and sinister intervened.

A tentacle-like appendage shot out, wrapping around Noel's arm with an iron grip.

"Huh?" Noel's eyes widened in shock.

He hadn't sensed its presence at all, a testament to how formidable his new adversary was.

The tentacle's grip was impossibly strong, and with a powerful swing, it flung Noel across the room.

Noel crashed into the far wall, the impact jarring his bones and knocking the wind out of him.

He struggled to his feet, every muscle screaming in protest.

His knife had fallen from his grasp and skidded across the floor, far out of reach.

Pain exploded through Noel's body as he lay there, dazed and breathless.

The knife slipped from his grasp, skidding away on the cold, hard ground.

He struggled to his feet, every muscle protesting.

His vision blurred slightly as he tried to focus on the new threat.

The taste of blood was in his mouth, and a fresh wave of anger surged through him.

How had he missed it?

What kind of creature could evade his senses so completely?

Noel forced himself upright, every muscle screaming in protest.

As he looked at David, his breath caught in his throat.

From David back extended four tentacle-like appendages, sinuous and grotesque, writhing with a life of their own.

"Not so soon," David taunted, his voice dripping with malice.

"You? So you are a complete lunatic," Noel spat out, his eyes narrowing in disbelief and disgust.

The realization that David had experimented on himself was almost too much to fathom.

This man, who had already inflicted so much pain and suffering, had gone to monstrous lengths in his pursuit of power.

David's smirk widened, a twisted glint in his eyes.

"Well, if you get away with just this, then it won't be fun," he sneered, relishing the shock and revulsion on Noel's face.

The tentacles whipped through the air with terrifying speed, lashing out at Noel.

He barely had time to react, blocking the attack with his telekinesis and weaving as the appendages struck with deadly precision.

Each movement was a desperate attempt to stay ahead of the onslaught, his body already battered and bruised from the earlier battle.

David moved with an unnatural grace, his tentacles adding an unpredictable element to his attacks.

They slashed and stabbed not only at Noel but also at everything and everyone in their surroundings.

The lab was in chaos, scientists and guards scrambling to escape the deadly reach of the appendages.

Noel’s relentless struggle forced him into a defensive dance.

Every time he thought he saw an opening, another tentacle would strike, driving him back.

His breath came in ragged gasps, his muscles burning with the effort to keep moving.

David's eyes gleamed with malevolent satisfaction.

“You’re fighting a losing battle, Noel,” he taunted, his voice dripping with condescension.

“You can’t hope to defeat me.”

Noel’s mind raced, trying to find a way to counter this new threat.

The grotesque transformation had given David an edge, one that seemed almost insurmountable.

But Noel couldn’t afford to give in to despair.

He had fought too hard, endured too much, to let it end like this.

With a roar of defiance, Noel commanded his knife.

It flew to his hand with a surge of telekinesis, and he slashed at one of the tentacles.

The blade connected, slicing through the flesh, but David barely flinched, the wound healing almost instantly.

Noel’s heart sank, but he refused to back down.