Borax tried to regain control of his hand, his massive fingers twitching erratically in the vast emptiness of space, the colossal limb refusing to obey his will as if possessed by an unseen force.
He blew the hand with his left fist, delivering a powerful strike that echoed through the void like a distant thunderclap, hoping that a sharp jolt of pain would awaken the dormant nerves and restore his command over the appendage.
But it was all for naught, as the pain subsided without effect, leaving him unable to regain control of his right arm, the limb hanging limply yet defiantly against his desperate attempts.
The vampire clone controlled the right arm again by manipulating the blood flow within it, his influence seeping through the veins like a insidious current that overrode Borax's natural dominance.
