Noel moved ahead toward the Tier 4 prison, his steps echoing ominously through the corridors.
Each stride was purposeful, radiating an unstoppable force that sent waves of dread through anyone who dared to face him.
Officers rushed to stop him, but they were utterly helpless, their attempts to subdue him futile against his overwhelming power.
Bodies hit the ground, crumpled and lifeless, their blood staining the cold concrete.
As he crossed into Tier 4, the prisoners glanced at him from behind their bars, their reactions a mix of fascination and terror.
Some watched with wide-eyed interest, sensing the seismic shift in the prison's power dynamics.
Others shrank back in fear, recognizing the embodiment of pure, unbridled rage in their midst.
None dared to approach him.
The reason was clear: Noel's presence alone was overwhelming.
His eyes shone with an intense blue light, filled with a deadly glint that promised annihilation to any who stood in his way.
His face and hands were smeared in crimson blood, a stark and horrifying contrast to his pale skin, the blood obviously not his own.
A mischievous grin twisted his lips, as if he were mocking the entire situation, reveling in the chaos he had unleashed.
It was a grin that spoke of madness, a dark humor found in the midst of violence and destruction.
Noel was the personification of madness, the embodiment of a storm that had taken human form.
His aura pulsed with raw energy, a blue halo that crackled and hissed with barely contained fury.
The air around him seemed to shimmer with heat, distorting the space as if reality itself was warping in response to his power.
They stood in silent shock and fear at the bizarre sight before them.
Noel’s appearance was terrifying, his eyes glowing an eerie blue, his face and hands smeared with the blood of those who had dared to oppose him.
As he passed through Tier 4, not a single prisoner or guard dared to come near him, their terror palpable in the oppressive silence.
Noel moved with purpose toward Tier 5, his steps echoing through the tense corridors.
The atmosphere was charged with dread, the prisoners and guards alike sensing the impending violence.
The Tier 5 guards were more skilled, better trained, and more determined.
But they, too, were no match for Noel's enhanced powers.
In Tier 5, the resistance was fiercer, and Noel had to unleash more of his formidable abilities.
The blue aura around him crackled with raw energy, lighting the dim corridors with an otherworldly glow.
He moved like a force of nature, dispatching the guards with brutal efficiency.
Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.
Bodies fell in his wake, their blood spilling in more gruesome ways, staining the floors and walls.
The violence was swift, relentless, and horrifying, leaving a trail of devastation behind him.
Finally, after clearing Tier 5, Noel approached his destination: the isolated cell.
His heart pounded with anticipation as he reached the large, imposing door at the end of the corridor.
The hallway was eerily empty, the silence almost deafening after the chaos he had left behind.
The door was massive, reinforced with layers of steel and complex locking mechanisms.
It was clear that whatever lay beyond was of utmost importance to the prison’s authorities.
Noel knew without a doubt that Agnus was locked inside.
Taking a deep breath, he steadied himself.
His fingers twitched with anticipation, the blue aura around him flaring slightly.
But in order to reach Agnus, he first had to face three officers guarding the door.
Noel glanced around, taking in the sight of his opponents.
One held a sword and shield, another a bow, and the third carried a wand.
The scene struck a familiar chord, reminding him of his first confrontation with James.
The officers quickly assumed their battle stances, their eyes locked on Noel, radiating determination and focus.
But Noel was faster.
In an instant, he teleported and appeared beside the mage.
"Goodbye," he whispered, his voice a deadly promise.
With a swift motion, he slashed the mage's throat.
Blood sprayed, and the mage's eyes widened in shock.
But to Noel’s surprise, the wound began to heal almost instantly, the skin knitting back together as if untouched.
Using that brief moment of distraction, the archer released a volley of arrows.
Noel sensed the danger and teleported again, narrowly avoiding the deadly projectiles.
The arrows thudded into the wall behind him, their shafts vibrating with the force of the impact.
The swordsman charged at Noel, shield raised and sword poised to strike.
Noel teleported again, reappearing behind the archer.
The archer stumbled back, trying to draw a dagger, but Noel was relentless.
He seized the archer by the throat, lifting him off the ground.
With a squeeze, he crushed the man's windpipe, dropping him to the floor, lifeless.
But the swordsman wasn't finished.
He quickly moved and rushed towards Noel with a renewed fury.
Noel, reacting with the speed and precision that had come to define him, swiftly moved his hands and pushed the swordsman away with a burst of telekinesis.
The man was lifted into the air, limbs flailing, before being slammed back to the ground with a bone-jarring impact.
It should have been enough to incapacitate him, but to Noel's dismay, the swordsman began to heal almost instantly.
And the archer was standing up as well.
"That scientist," Noel muttered under his breath, piecing it together.
"He did something, didn't he?"
The realization struck him: David had experimented on their bodies, granting them this rapid healing ability.
It was yet another cruel twist in the labyrinth of torment these people had woven around him.
"Hey, say something!" Noel demanded, his voice rising in frustration.
But the officers remained silent.
It wasn't that they were refusing to speak—they physically couldn't.
Their focus was solely on the fight, their eyes blank and unresponsive, as if their minds were no longer their own.
The swordsman charged again, his movements eerily precise.
Simultaneously, the mage began chanting, his hands weaving intricate patterns in the air, while the archer nocked another arrow, aiming to cover his comrades.
It was a coordinated assault, a testament to their training and the modifications done to them.
Noel teleported to avoid the swordsman's strike, reappearing beside the mage just as the spell was about to be released.
With a swift, brutal motion, he aimed to disable the mage again.
But the mage was ready this time.
A shield of magical energy flared to life, deflecting Noel's attack and forcing him back.
In that brief moment of distraction, the archer let loose an arrow.
Noel barely had time to react, teleporting just as the arrow whizzed past where his head had been moments before.
He reappeared in front of them all.
"Fine then. Let's see how much you all can heal," Noel snarled, his voice dripping with venom.
A wave of blue aura erupted from him, enveloping the officers in its unrelenting grip.
They struggled to move, their faces contorted in fear and frustration, but Noel's power held them firmly in place.
Noel raised his hands, and with a forceful motion, brought them down.
The officers were lifted into the air, their bodies suspended momentarily before crashing down headfirst onto the unforgiving ground.
The sound of bones cracking echoed through the corridor.
Blood splattered, and their limbs twisted in unnatural angles.
The blue aura flared again, and Noel raised his hands once more.
The officers were yanked back into the air, only to be slammed down again with even greater force.
Their bodies convulsed with each impact, the rapid healing process kicking in almost immediately, mending shattered bones and torn flesh.
But Noel was relentless.
He repeated the motion, over and over, each time with more brutality.
The officers' screams filled the air, a symphony of agony and desperation.
Their bodies were caught in a vicious cycle of destruction and regeneration, each crash to the ground more violent than the last.
"How long can you keep this up?" Noel taunted, his eyes gleaming with a sadistic light.
"Let's find out."
With each rise and fall, the officers' ability to heal slowed.
Their regenerative powers, once seemingly infinite, began to falter.
Blood pooled around them, and their movements grew sluggish.
Their faces, once masks of defiance, were now etched with pure terror.
Noel's expression was one of cold satisfaction.
He watched as the officers' bodies finally started to fail.
Their wounds, too severe and too frequent, began to overwhelm their healing abilities.
The blue aura continued to pulse around them, but now it was a cage, a torturous prison from which there was no escape.
Eventually, the healing ceased altogether.
The officers lay in broken heaps, their bodies unable to mend the relentless damage.
Noel lowered his hands, the aura dissipating as he stepped forward.
He looked down at them, his expression a mixture of triumph and contempt.
"Not so invincible now, are you?" he muttered, his voice low and dangerous.
He turned away from the defeated officers, his focus shifting back to the large door.
With a deep breath, he pushed it open, the metal groaning under the pressure.
The room beyond was dimly lit, the air thick with an oppressive silence.
In the center of the room, chained and restrained, was Agnus.