Alarms blare in an underground facility and Flamel looks aorund, realising what the alarms indicate. 'things are not ready yet, I can't yet control the creatures of corruption, nor produce a blight strong enough to destroy a god! I need just a little more time I am so close I can almost feel it'.
Suddenly the reinforced doors are broken "in the name of the godess of justice cirvea, we are here to punish you, heretic"
"Not now, I am so close and you fanatics come interrupt MY research. I put in countless hours of effort that are finaly paying off, and you simply come here and barge in, It won't end this way, you WILL see."
Flamel quickly searchs around his samples and finds what he was looking for, a full beaker of liquid corruption and one of blight.
'If I am going to die here I am not going without trying one last test.'
He knew his time had come, but before he went and died he had to try an idea that stuck with him, even If It didn't work and he couldn't even bring the clerics down i his fall, at least he could console himself in the fact that he at least learned something new before he passed away.
This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.
Flamel quickly downs the whole beaker full of corruption, and his body starts to change and grow uncontrollably and while his mind deteriorates rapidely but he still hás some semblance of control, he downs the whole vial of blight.
Flamel shivers horribly as his body undergoes horrific transformation at the same time as necrosis, and even after seemingly stopping It just starts anew.
Screaming in terrible pain, Flamel's flesh melts but stays in the same place, the flesh slurry grows in size together with his bones and on the exterior of the extremely dark green colored 'flesh' starts growing deep purple scales bordering on black.
A tail starts growing between his now scaled legs as his nails grow into class and his mouth stretchs out into a gaping maw filled with daggerlike teeth.
Flamel's eyes split into four and lastly from his back sprout four bat-like wings.
With a totaled lab and a corrupted mind, name obeys his baser instincts, and the only thing that he feels is a HUNGER for mana, name wants mana, name needs mana.
He looks aorund for any source to fill this emptiness in himself, and the nearest thing he finds are the clerics, his maw drips acid onto the ground at the thought of devoring the clerics.
The thing that became of Flamel slowly walks in their direction, then smashes one of them with his claws Just before eating one of them whole.