Psycho

The moment Speed's fingers wrapped around the hilt of the sword, a surge of raw, unrelenting power tore through his body. It wasn't just strength—it was hunger, a primal thirst that clawed at his mind and consumed his soul. His muscles tightened, his veins pulsed with molten energy, and his stormy-gray eyes burned with an unnatural green glow. The transformation was immediate, violent, and absolute.

Speed's body shifted, his frame growing taller, broader, and more imposing. His skin darkened faintly, veins glowing beneath the surface like cracks in volcanic rock. His hands, once trembling with uncertainty, now gripped the sword with a ferocity that bordered on madness. The blade itself seemed alive, its runes flaring brighter with every heartbeat, feeding off the chaos that now coursed through its wielder.

The humanoid spiders hesitated, their crimson eyes narrowing as they sensed the change in him. But Speed didn't wait for them to strike. With a guttural roar that echoed through the chamber, he lunged forward, the sword slicing through the air with a sound like thunder. The first spider barely had time to react before the blade tore through its torso, splitting it in two. Acidic blood sprayed across the stone floor, sizzling and hissing, but Speed didn't stop.

He moved like a predator unleashed, his movements erratic yet devastating. He hopped from one spider to the next, his speed unnatural, his strikes precise and brutal. The sword seemed to guide him, its energy amplifying his bloodlust, driving him to kill without hesitation. Each swing of the blade left a trail of destruction, the humanoid spiders falling one by one, their grotesque forms crumbling into ash and embers.

But the hunger didn't fade—it grew stronger with every kill. Speed's breaths came in ragged gasps, his chest heaving as the thirst for blood consumed him. His mind blurred, the line between man and beast dissolving as the sword's power took hold. He felt alive, more alive than he ever had, but the sensation was overwhelming, intoxicating, and terrifying all at once.

The spiders regrouped, their movements more calculated now, their crimson eyes glowing brighter as they prepared to strike. But Speed didn't care. He welcomed the challenge, the chaos, the carnage. With a twisted grin, he leapt into the fray, the sword blazing with green fire as it tore through their ranks. The chamber filled with the sound of screeches and the sickening crunch of shattered exoskeletons.

As the battle raged on, Speed's transformation deepened. His movements became faster, his strikes more savage, his thirst more insatiable. The sword pulsed in his hands, its runes glowing brighter with every kill, feeding off the blood and chaos that surrounded him. He was no longer just a warrior—he was a force of destruction, a whirlwind of death that left nothing in its wake.

But the hunger came at a cost. Speed's mind began to fracture, the power of the sword threatening to consume him entirely. The voice from the shadows returned, its tone dripping with dark amusement. "Ah, the beast awakens. But tell me, Dragon Mage, how long can you hold onto your humanity? How long before the hunger consumes you completely?"

Speed didn't respond. He couldn't. The thirst for blood drowned out everything—the voice, the fear, the doubt. All that remained was the sword, the power, and the kill.

The room dripped with blood and venom, a battlefield born of madness and carnage. Speed's feet hammered against the ground as he launched himself into another leap, his glowing blade carving through the air like a streak of lightning. The humanoid spiders shrieked and hissed, their bodies falling one by one to his unrelenting fury, but it only fueled him further. The thirst for destruction coursed through his veins, insatiable and raw.

One spider attempted to flank him, its venom-dripping claws swiping toward his back, but Speed turned with unnatural speed, the blade flashing out in a wide arc. The creature's body split in two, a spray of acidic blood sizzling as it hit the stone floor. He grinned, not out of satisfaction, but out of something darker—an exhilaration that had seeped into his very soul.

Each kill amplified the pull of the sword's energy, the blade thrumming in his hands like a living, breathing entity. Its runes glowed brighter with every strike, as if feeding on the chaos Speed created. The once-heavy aches in his muscles were now gone, replaced by an unyielding, frenzied strength. He moved faster, struck harder, his body a blur of motion that defied logic or reason.

The spiders, relentless in their tactics, began to change their approach. One lunged low, another high, their claws and fangs coming at him from all angles. Yet Speed danced between them like a predator in its prime, his blade slashing through them with ease, the Soul Flame igniting briefly along its edge to incinerate what remained.

The chamber echoed with the sounds of combat—the crunch of exoskeletons shattering, the sizzle of venom burning stone, and the roars that tore from Speed's throat. He didn't care about the taunts of the voice, the warnings it whispered in the back of his mind. He didn't care about strategy or reason. All that mattered was the thrill of the kill.

But as the battle raged on, something inside him began to shift. The power of the sword, once exhilarating, now started to twist into something more sinister. The hunger that fueled him, the bloodlust that propelled his every move, began to cloud his mind. His vision blurred, his senses overloaded with the rush of destruction.

The transformation deepened. His breath rasped in his throat, his heart hammering like a war drum. His glowing green eyes now shimmered with streaks of red, matching the blade's pulsing energy. His limbs, though stronger than ever, began to feel heavier, as though the weight of the power was consuming him from within.

The spiders thinned in numbers, their hisses growing quieter as Speed's slaughter continued. Yet the more he killed, the stronger the pull of the sword became, its grip on his soul tightening like a vice. The blade thrummed in his hands, not just guiding his strikes, but commanding them. It wasn't just a weapon anymore—it was a part of him, and it demanded blood.

The voice returned, more amused than before, its tone mocking yet laced with an unsettling curiosity. "Ah, yes, Dragon Mage. Feed the hunger. Let the power consume you. Do you feel it now? The sword does not serve you—you serve it."

Speed snarled, a low, guttural sound that barely sounded human. The taunts no longer stung; they were drowned out by the roar of his own blood pumping in his ears. The spiders, now too few to surround him, began to retreat, scuttling into the shadows. But even as they fled, Speed gave chase, leaping into the air and cleaving through them with a ferocity that bordered on madness.

One final spider—the largest of them all—rose to block his path. It hissed loudly, its venomous fangs glistening as it prepared to strike. Speed didn't hesitate. With a roar that echoed through the chamber, he brought the sword down in a blinding arc, the blade slicing through the creature and embedding itself in the stone floor.

The spider let out one last ear-piercing screech before collapsing into a heap, its shattered body dissolving into ash. Speed stood over its remains, his chest heaving, his muscles trembling with both power and exhaustion. The room was silent now, save for the faint hum of the sword still buried in the ground.

But as the silence settled, so did the weight of what had just transpired. Speed's grip on the sword tightened as he stared at the destruction around him. The chamber was littered with the remains of his foes, the floor scorched and slick with venom and blood. His pulse thundered in his ears, but a whisper of doubt began to creep into his mind.

The power he had wielded—was it his, or the sword's? The hunger that had driven him, the thirst for blood that still lingered in his chest—was it his own, or something darker?

The voice, ever-present, chuckled softly. "And so the beast begins to think. Tell me, Dragon Mage... do you still believe you can wield this power? Or does it already wield you?"

Speed didn't answer. He couldn't. The glow of the sword flickered faintly, the runes dimming as if satisfied, for now.