Got Real Plan Now

Ace grips the vial tighter, feeling the cold glass press against his palm.

He watches the witches, their expressions smug, triumphant, convinced that they have him cornered. But they don't know what he's capable of.

Ace's mind sharpens.

If he can manipulate his powers, his very essence, why not this? Why not take control of whatever they've given him before it takes control of him?

He lifts the vial to his lips.

The scent is sharp, herbal, with a bitterness that coats his tongue the moment the liquid touches it.

He swallows, forcing his body to remain steady, his will wrapping around the foreign substance like a shield.

He takes that opportunity to close his eyes and concentrate on his powers, leading them, pleading them to fight whatever the effect that that dark liquid is supposed to do to him.