The woman perched atop the pile of corpses, her green scrubs stained with blood, gave off an aura of controlled tension. Her hands, clad in blue nitrile gloves, clenched tightly around the stethoscope draped around her neck, a twisted symbol of her duality as both healer and killer. The stench of death hung heavily in the air, mingling with the coldness that seemed to radiate from Ivan, who stood calmly below her, his hollow eyes fixed on her.
“Listen,” she began, her voice measured but with an edge of desperation, “how about you just let me go? Noir is the real threat here. I didn’t want to kill anyone, it was just self-defense. Besides,” she continued, trying to inject a hint of reason into her plea, “I took down some of your enemies too. So it balances out, right?”
Ivan's skeletal face remained inscrutable, not indicating his thoughts. The silence stretched, heavy and oppressive, as the woman tried to read any sign of mercy—or wrath—in the empty eye sockets that stared back at her. She could feel her heartbeat quicken, each thud echoing in her ears like a countdown.
She knew that the man, or rather, the creature, standing before her was not one to be swayed by words alone. Still, retreat wasn’t an option, and surrender felt like a death sentence. She kept her gaze steady, her mind racing for any potential escape route, while her body remained coiled, ready to spring into action at the slightest provocation. At this moment, between life and death, she knew she would have to fight not just with skill, but with every ounce of wit and cunning she possessed.
“I’ll let you go if you can answer one simple question,” Ivan said, his voice eerily calm, as if the answer didn’t matter to him one way or the other.
The woman, perched uneasily on the pile of corpses, felt a flicker of hope. Maybe this was her way out. “Of course, what’s the question?” she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.
“How many people have you killed in total?” Ivan's tone was cold, and detached, like he was asking about the weather. But the weight of the question hung heavy in the air.
She stared at him, momentarily stunned. How many people had she killed? The thought had never really crossed her mind. She sat on a mound of bodies, just a fraction of her total, yet the number was meaningless to her, a tally she’d stopped keeping long ago.
“As I thought,” Ivan said, his voice dropping to an icy whisper. “You’re a monster who can’t be redeemed.”
Her eyes narrowed, anger flaring up in the pit of her stomach. “You’re no better! Tell me, how many people have you killed, you bastard?” she shot back, her voice rising with the heat of her fury.
Ivan's skeletal face contorted into a grotesque grin, the hollow sockets where his eyes should have been somehow managing to convey a twisted sense of pleasure. The smile was a chilling mockery of humanity, and it sent a shiver of dread through the woman, deeper than any wound ever could. “I don’t remember either,” he confessed, his voice dripping with a sinister glee that echoed through the lifeless hallway. “I’m just as much a monster as you. But unlike you, I embrace it.”
He took a step closer, his presence suffocating, like a shadow that consumed all light. “You,” he continued, his voice dropping to a menacing whisper, “will simply be another forgotten corpse on the pile. I might have spared you, dragged you back for interrogation, where you could have had the chance to beg for your life. But after hearing that filthy mouth of yours, I’ve decided you’re not worth the effort. I’ll kill you here and now.”
His grin widened, the bony jaws opening as if to swallow her whole. “So, before I do, tell me your name and codename. If you’re as dangerous as you claim, I might even get a promotion for erasing you from existence.”
The woman, her heart pounding in her chest, fought to keep her composure. Every instinct screamed at her to run, but she knew there was no escape. She met his gaze, her defiance the only shield she had left. “The name is Lisa Anderson, and the codename is The Plague,” she spat, the venom in her voice masking the fear that threatened to consume her. “Commit it to memory, you bony bastard.”
Lisa began to transform almost subtly, almost gracefully. Her skin, previously pale from the stress of the encounter, began to regain a healthy, almost radiant glow. The contours of her face sharpened, taking on a more defined and striking appearance. Her brown eyes, once hidden behind glasses, gleamed with an unnatural clarity, as if she could see every particle in the air.
Her once-short hair untangled itself from the bun, cascading down her back in smooth, flowing waves, each strand shimmering with a dark, silken sheen. The green scrubs she wore tightened and reformed to accentuate her now-enhanced physique, the material shifting to something more resilient, almost armor-like, yet still flexible enough to allow for fluid movement.
Her hands, still covered by blue nitrile gloves, elongated slightly, the fingers becoming more elegant and precise, perfect for a surgeon, or a killer. The stethoscope around her neck glowed faintly, as if resonating with the energy coursing through her body. Her posture straightened, exuding confidence and poise that hadn’t been there before, a reflection of the immense power she now wielded with even greater control.
As the transformation was completed, there was nothing monstrous or grotesque about her appearance, if anything, she looked more human, more perfect, as if she had unlocked the peak of what her body could achieve. Yet, beneath this veneer of beauty and calm, there was an unmistakable aura of danger, a silent warning that this was no ordinary enhancement.
Lisa’s excitement was palpable as she revealed her Authority. “Normally, I don't use this transformation, but against the famed Lich, I'll have to bring out all the stops. Let us trade ability names, Lich. I possess the Authority of Diseases,” she announced, her voice filled with a mix of anticipation and challenge.
Ivan’s skeletal grin widened, a sinister light flickering in his hollow eyes. “Necromancy and bone creation,” he responded with a casual air, as if discussing the weather. “If I recall, you're a member of Ouroboros, the assassin organization. I don’t have most of your bounties committed to memory, besides your leader and the top two, but an Authority-user should still fetch a pretty penny.” He chuckled, the sound echoing through the desolate hallway, sending chills down the spine of any who might have overheard.
Before he could continue, Lisa’s arm shot forward, elongating with an unnatural fluidity, her limb appearing to be composed of a viscous purple substance that bubbled ominously. The moment it made contact with Ivan’s bone shield, the effect was immediate. The bones, once solid and impenetrable, began to deteriorate, becoming brittle and cracking under the corrosive touch of her disease-infused limb.
“Impressive,” Ivan mused, stepping back as he watched the bones crumble to dust. “But brittle bones are hardly a concern for a necromancer.” He waved his hand, and the remains of the fallen A.E.G.I.S. agents around them began to stir, their bones snapping into place as they reanimated under his control. The hallway filled with the sound of cracking bones and the low, guttural groans of the newly awakened dead. They moved forward, their skeletal forms a mix of human and animalistic constructs, each one a grotesque mockery of life.
Lisa’s eyes gleamed with excitement as she flicked her other arm, releasing a spray of disease-laden droplets into the air. Each drop contained a different pathogen, designed to target various biological functions. The reanimated corpses shuddered as the diseases took hold, their bodies contorting and twitching as they were torn apart from within.
But Ivan was undeterred. With a flick of his wrist, he unleashed a barrage of bone spears from the ground, aiming directly at Lisa. She moved with incredible agility, her enhanced reflexes allowing her to dodge and weave through the onslaught. Her body twisted and bent in ways that defied human anatomy, her form more fluid than solid as she countered each attack with a combination of her stretching limbs and bursts of disease.
One of the bone spears grazed her side, but instead of bleeding, the wound simply sealed itself, the disease within her body rapidly regenerating the damaged tissue. “You’ll have to do better than that, Lich!” she taunted, her voice carrying a hint of mockery.
Ivan narrowed his eyes, his patience beginning to wear thin. “I knew you were powerful, but this is truly something,” he muttered, raising his hand to summon a more potent force. The air grew heavy with the sound of distant, echoing screams, the voices of the souls he had captured and twisted for his own use. With a command, he unleashed their torment upon Lisa, the cacophony of screams bombarding her mind, each one laced with the agony and suffering from the countless souls.
Lisa staggered, clutching her head as the screams threatened to overwhelm her. But she was not so easily defeated. With a surge of determination, she pushed back against the mental assault, her Authority flaring as she released a concentrated burst of disease that coated the hallway, the walls, the floor, and even the air itself. Ivan created a wall of bones to protect the children from the blast, as he defended himself with his artifact. The once pristine environment became a festering breeding ground for her pathogens, each one designed to attack Ivan’s creations at a cellular level.
The reanimated corpses began to dissolve, their bones disintegrating under the relentless assault of her diseases. But Ivan merely smiled, his skeletal grin widening as he watched the destruction. “You’re strong, Lisa,” he admitted, “but strength alone won’t save you.” He raised his hand, and the blood from his artifact began to seep into the ground, forming tendrils that snaked their way toward her, each one carrying the power to obliterate anything they touched.
Lisa leaped back, her body twisting midair as she avoided the deadly tendrils. But even as she dodged, Ivan could see the weariness beginning to set in. Her once fluid movements were becoming slightly slower, her breath coming in short gasps as she struggled to maintain control over the battlefield.
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Lisa’s eyes glinted with a dangerous resolve as she reached into her pocket, pulling out a small, worn talisman. “I didn’t want to do this because of the side effects, but I guess I’ll have to use my artifacts,” she muttered, more to herself than to Ivan. The talisman was old, frayed at the edges, and etched with ancient symbols. Without hesitation, she placed it on her forehead, and the surrounding air seemed to ripple.
As the talisman made contact with her skin, a memory flashed through Ivan’s mind—a report about an artifact that had gone missing from A.E.G.I.S. storage. Artifact 1-99, the Fox Deity’s Talisman. It granted the user pyrokinetic abilities and the power to create illusions. The artifact was rumored to have been taken from a member of the Church of the Infinite Gates, a cult with roots in Japan. But like many powerful artifacts, it came with a price—the more the user relied on its abilities, the more they were drawn into their deepest desires, whatever they might be.
A flicker of unease passed over Ivan’s skeletal features. He knew what the talisman could do, and he wasn’t eager to see it in action.
The transformation was immediate. Flames erupted around Lisa, dancing along her body without burning her, and her eyes took on a fiery glow. The air shimmered with heat as she lifted her hands, and the flames obeyed her command, swirling around her in a vortex of searing heat.
“You’re not the only one with a few tricks up your sleeve, Lich,” she said, her voice laced with both confidence and the slightest hint of something darker, a trace of the talisman’s influence already taking hold.
Ivan barely had time to react before she unleashed a torrent of fire in his direction. He quickly summoned a wall of bones to shield himself, but the flames were relentless, licking at the edges of the barrier and threatening to consume it entirely. The heat was intense, and Ivan could feel the bones starting to weaken under the assault.
But the flames were just the beginning. As the fire roared around them, the hallway began to shift. The walls twisted and distorted, and the floor seemed to drop away into an endless abyss. Lisa had activated the talisman’s illusionary powers, turning the very environment into a weapon against Ivan.
He gritted his teeth, focusing on maintaining his composure as the world around him warped. He knew it was just an illusion, but that didn’t make it any less dangerous. One wrong move, and he could be sent plummeting into an imaginary void, or worse, lose track of Lisa altogether.
“I’ll admit, you’re more resourceful than most,” Ivan called out, his voice echoing in the distorted space. “But artifacts have their limits, and you’ve only made yourself more vulnerable.”
Lisa smirked, her form flickering as she moved through the illusionary landscape. “You talk too much, Lich. Let’s see if your bones can withstand a direct hit.”
She gathered the flames into a concentrated ball of fire in her hand, the heat so intense that the very air around it seemed to ignite. With a swift motion, she hurled the fireball at Ivan, the force behind it enough to shatter his bone shield upon impact.
The explosion was deafening. The bone barrier crumbled, and Ivan was thrown back, the flames scorching his robes and cracking the bones that comprised his skeletal frame. Pain, a sensation he rarely felt, coursed through him as he struggled to regain his footing.
But Lisa wasn’t done. Seeing an opportunity, she shifted her focus from Ivan to the students he was protecting. A cruel smile spread across her face as she prepared to unleash her fire upon them.
“They’re just a distraction, right?” she taunted. “Let’s see how much they really mean to you, Lich.” She extended her hand, flames gathering at her fingertips, ready to strike.
Ivan’s eyes widened in realization as he saw her intentions. Despite the pain, he pushed himself forward, summoning every ounce of his strength to intercept her attack. But just as he moved, Lisa landed another blow, this time, a sharp, piercing strike aimed directly at his core. The force of it drove him to his knees, and for a moment, he faltered.
Lisa’s laughter echoed through the burning hallway, her triumph seemingly within reach. “Looks like you’re not as invincible as you thought,” she sneered, her hand still outstretched, ready to unleash destruction on the students.
But Ivan, even weakened and battered, was far from defeated.
“Would you like to understand why grade 0 artifacts are categorized so uniquely?” Ivan's voice was icy and commanding. “Their power might appear comparable to grade 1 artifacts, yet they bear a far more sinister distinction. The answer is simple: all grade 0 artifacts are sealed in a dormant state. Now, you shall witness the true origin of this world, fully unleashed.”
His gaze darkened with an intense gravity as he continued, “Oh, Blood of the Dead God, your death was an unjust cruelty, betrayed by those you held dear. It is time to exact a vengeance as cruel and unjust as your own demise. It is time to drag my enemies into the very depths of hell. Artifact release!”
Ivan's voice crescendoed into a fierce yell, the final command ringing through the corridor.
The blood that had previously pooled around Ivan began to absorb itself into the handle of the artifact. It pulsed rhythmically, glowing with an ominous light. The handle cracked and shattered under the pressure of the gathering power. The blood erupted, cascading around Ivan like a living entity. It wrapped around him, enveloping him in a pulsating, dark cocoon.
As the blood encased him, Ivan's body underwent a dramatic transformation. His form shrank, his height diminishing until he appeared as a child. His face, once skeletal and terrifying, now resembled that of a young boy. His eyes burned a bright, unnerving orange, and his long, flowing hair turned an ethereal white. Orange moths, their wings glistening with otherworldly energy, emerged from the blood, covering his body and crawling over him with an eerie grace.
“It’s been a while since that Lich lent me his body,” the transformed Ivan said, his voice now unnervingly childish, yet laced with an intimidating power. “I suppose he must really want you dead.”
Lisa’s eyes widened in horror as the transformation unfolded. The childlike voice and innocent appearance contrasted starkly with the palpable menace emanating from the figure before her. Fear gripped her, but she tried to mask it with defiance.
“I won’t let some stupid kid defeat me,” Lisa growled, her arm extending toward Ivan with the intention of crushing him.
But as her arm lunged forward, the blood surrounding her reacted violently. It exploded in a burst of crimson, sending shockwaves through the room. The sheer force of the explosion ripped through her extended arm, causing Lisa to stumble backward in shock and pain.
Her face contorted in fear as she witnessed the blood's power unraveling before her. The explosion left her disoriented and vulnerable, her confidence shattered by the raw, unbridled force of the artifact’s release.
Ivan, now fully transformed, stood amidst the chaos with an unsettling calm. His childlike appearance belied the terror he was capable of unleashing, and his gaze, though youthful, was filled with an ancient and relentless fury.
“Please, call me Atlas,” the transformed Ivan said with a chilling giggle. “In the next five minutes, with this body, we’re going to become very well-acquainted.”
As Atlas spoke, the room was filled with an ominous, almost playful air. His childlike voice and eerie smile contrasted starkly with the brutality of his power. Lisa braced herself, knowing that the next few minutes would be a relentless test of her endurance and skill.
For the next four minutes, the battle unfolded like a scene from a nightmarish dance. Lisa’s attempts to strike Atlas were met with sheer, unrelenting agony. Every time she tried to land a blow, her limbs would explode in a gruesome display of blood and pain. The blood that had enveloped her body, now boiling and seething with a malevolent energy, erupted with violent force, tearing through her with an unyielding rage.
Atlas watched with a detached amusement, his eyes gleaming with a sinister delight. “Come on, keep trying to attack,” he taunted, his voice dripping with mockery. “I’m going to get bored if you don’t put up more of a fight, dummy.”
Lisa gritted her teeth against the searing pain. Each movement sent waves of boiling blood through her veins, causing her to scream out in agony. Her attacks, though swift and precise, were met with explosive retaliation from Atlas. The blood that had previously shielded her now acted as a cruel instrument of torture, amplifying her suffering with every attempt to strike back.
Atlas moved with an eerie grace, dodging Lisa’s attacks with a childlike ease. His small form darted around with unsettling agility, his laughter echoing through the room as he danced away from her furious, yet futile, strikes. The contrast between his innocent appearance and the destructive power at his command only heightened the horror of the scene.
Lisa’s once confident demeanor was now replaced with desperation and pain. Her limbs, constantly subjected to the torturous effects of the blood, struggled to keep up with the relentless pace of the battle. Despite her immense control over diseases and her formidable skills, she found herself at a disadvantage against Atlas’s overpowering abilities.
Every strike she attempted seemed to be countered with an equally devastating response. The boiling blood in her veins only added to her torment, making her movements increasingly erratic and her attacks less effective.
With each passing moment, Lisa’s strength waned, and her resolve was tested to its limits. The relentless assault, combined with the searing pain, pushed her to the brink of collapse. Atlas continued to taunt her, his giggles and jeers only adding to the psychological torment.
“Keep it up,” Atlas said with a smirk, his voice echoing with a chilling amusement. “You’re making this so much more fun.”
Lisa’s eyes were wild with desperation as she struggled against the agony of her boiling blood. “I have to escape,” she screamed through gritted teeth. “I need to escape!” She fumbled with her remaining talisman, her fingers trembling as she pulled it out.
Atlas watched with a bemused expression, his small frame hovering effortlessly in the air. “So you’re choosing to give up and run,” he said, his tone dripping with mockery. “Very well, goodbye plaything.”
With a snap of his fingers, Atlas unleashed a wave of dark energy. Lisa’s head exploded in a gruesome burst of blood and gore, splattering the surrounding walls. The carnage was swift and brutal, but amidst the chaos, Lisa’s talisman activated. A shimmering light enveloped her decapitated corpse, and with a sudden flash, she was teleported away.
Atlas’s laughter echoed through the room as he watched the scene unfold. “Well, that was fun,” he said with a casual cheeriness. “I do hope she wasn’t from that snake organization. If she was, ‘he’ might get mad. But eh, whatever. I’m sure it will be fine.”
The room began to settle, and as Atlas’s form wavered, he transformed back into Ivan. The blood that had once enveloped his body receded and coalesced, disappearing into the artifact’s handle as it returned to its sealed state. Ivan’s skeletal face bore a satisfied grin as he surveyed the aftermath of the battle.
He took a deep breath, the chilling calm of his presence returning as he assessed the surrounding carnage. “Another day, another monster dealt with,” Ivan mused, his voice carrying a hint of dark satisfaction. The blood and chaos of the battle faded, leaving behind the quiet aftermath of his ruthless efficiency.
“I’m sorry about the mess, children,” Ivan chuckled, his voice carrying a dark amusement. “But it seems we’d be better off finding another route.