Willam's thoughts were in disarray as he watched the demon eat away all his defenses, quite literally. The more it ate, the more defined and pronounced its features became, muscles bulged and reformed, horns grew and stretched all the way down to his back and its eyes reformed with a firey inferno burning within, it spun its head around and met his gaze, then smiled.

The spirit snapped out of his stupor and called back most of the motes to his side immediately, the infernal atmosphere broke apart seconds later, and the demon screeched in irritation and began chasing after the returning motes, and in seconds, it would be upon him.

Sensing his impending doom, the spirit maneuvered out of the rampaging demon's way, narrowly avoiding a head-on collision, the demon came to a skidding halt seconds later. The demon locked eyes with Williams, instead of screeching in irritation, however, it flashed a predatory smile, the smile of a hunter hunting a worthy prey.

Anger boiled within Within Willams, that smile made him so angry, it wasn't natural, he wasn't this short-tempered in his previous life, but he felt like he had to wipe that smile off the demon's face, he would have to investigate this later, instead of charging in blindly into the demon's obvious trap, however, the spirit formed a lance of red hot fire and stuffed it with full of his anger, pain, frustration, and helplessness he had felt since coming to this world.

The pain of having his soul stripped apart, layer by layer, examined, played with, and placed back together without a care for his well-being by a higher power.

The anger and helplessness he felt when it was revealed that he was killed and put here on purpose, all because of his so-called anomalous nature, what a joke. The frustration of not being able to opt out of this sick and twisted game he found himself in, it was all so tiring, and he hated it, he hated it with passion, he wanted a way to stop falling into the ploys of others, a way to defend himself from any and all foes he may face in the future, no matter how God-like they may seem, a way to survive, to thrive in any environment and overcome all odds, no matter how impossible it may seem at first glance.

He couldn't even remember his last name, why he had forgotten that and remembered everything else was beyond him, however, he had it all in his previous life, Willams was a businessman by heart and studied for it, he managed to rise up from his poor upbringing and carve out a place for himself in life, he wasn't super rich by any means but had he continued to grow his small pharmaceutical business he would've achieved what he wanted all his life, he would've been able to sit back, maybe start a family and truly enjoy the fruits he 30 years of his life growing.

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But, apparently, life had other plans for him because it was all gone now, he would've achieved his dream of being wealthy and happy in a few years if he wasn't violently ripped from the beautiful picture his life was shaping up to be, all that blood, sweat, sacrifice and tears were for naught, he wanted it back, all of it, he didn't ask for any of this at all.

Without realizing it, Willams pushed all these desires along with his feelings into the newly formed lance, what was supposed to be a temporary disposable tool began to change, and something primal awakened inside of the motes that made up the flaming lance, barely noticeable at first but it quickly became apparent, its nature became more, the lance took on a more corporeal existence, with a loud flash it solidified itself in reality.

Ordinary looking at first but, at some point, the flaming lance began to change once more, first its color and soon the aura it excluded, and then its entire shape changed, morphing and shifting as if it was alive, eldritch words that made his mind hurt etched themselves all over the surface of the lance before disappearing in a burst of flame as if they were never there, to begin with.

The lance now glowed wickedly and hummed with power, the sheer amount of hate and heat he felt from it made Willams question what He had created internally, seconds later he felt a link form between him and the lance, and information and emotions flood his mind causing him to break eye contact with the demon for a few seconds.

He didn't have time to regret his mistake as the demon glowed and teleported.

Space rippled as a claw burst forth out of the distorted space, aimed right at his neck, everything slowed to a crawl for Willams as he watched the clawed hand grow closer, he really was going to die, he'd made a critical mistake and it was going to cost him his life, in a way, he'd played right into the hands of death, the smile had thrown him off, he thought the demon wanted him to run head-on into it because of the momentary burst of anger but what it really wanted was for him to lose concentration for a second, because it could teleport, of course, it could.

The spirit continued to watch his death grow closer when he felt a pull at the back of his mind, it was the lance, but that wasn't its real name however, according to the information forcefully bashed into his mind, it was Ȃ̶̛̦̦̥̻̥̮́̊̇̎̉́͑̔̔͌͠g̵̞͔̀̅̐͐̄͘͝ń̵̮̰̫͍̘͈́̚ͅį̶̲̬̩̼̦͕͓͕͈̣͉̍̈́͑̐́͑͒̂́̍̕ş̷͖̯̻͕̭̤̗̝̺̓͆̈́̌̽̇̓̓̽̆̕̕̚͜ą̶͙̫͖͖̭̣̪͍̰̰͔́̀͋͊͐̎̚͘̕̕͝v̵̡̺̺͓̹̗̠̰̼̪̼̩̰̾͂̔͊̕͜ͅa̷̜̪̗̲̪̘̦͍̟͖̙͇͖͓̓̄̊͛ embodiment of fire, hate, and resentment, she was all his suffering, hate and pain given a tangible and physical form.

And she was asking to be used, she assured him that victory was certain but the curtain for action was closing quickly, his hope renewed, The spirit gave her the equivalent of a mental thumbs up.

There was a flash of light and, suddenly, he was no longer in danger, the demon had disappeared, burned out of existence in the blink of an eye.

'Holy shit!'