Eternity

Blake rushed at Nemisis his body trembling, not with fear, but with raw, unchecked rage. His red tears had long since burned into embers, his entire form wrapped in searing crimson flames.

Blood poured from him in waves, but he no longer bled like a man—he bled like a monster. His lifeblood did not spill weakly onto the ground. It rose, twisted, and hardened into weapons of war.

Two massive blades, each taller than him, burned in his grip, forged from his own essence. The edges dripped molten red, pulsing like they were alive, breathing with the rage he couldn't contain.

And across from him, Nemesis stood.

The entity loomed tall, its grotesque limbs dangling loosely, its gaunt face split by that ever-present grin. The shadows around it swirled, licking hungrily at the air, as if tasting Blake's fury.

Nemesis tilted its head, voice smooth as oil.

"Impressive, little bloodsucker. But futile."