Rex stood amidst the swirling, golden embers of Raizen's disintegrating form. A sound erupted from his throat, pure and filled with unadulterated joy. He laughed—a loud, boisterous, almost celebratory sound that echoed through the silent, scorched tunnel.
"Holy fuck, that was exquisite!" Rex roared, wiping a smear of soot from his cheek. "The way you pushed, the way you screamed... you really are a masterpiece of a warrior, Raizen!"
But as the laughter died down, the expression on Rex's face shifted. The joy didn't vanish; it curdled, turning into something darker, more predatory.
The respect was still there, but it was the respect a sculptor has for a piece of clay that is finally firm enough to be molded.
"But a masterpiece shouldn't be finished so soon," Rex mused, his eyes narrowing. "A man who fights like that... he deserves to experience the full spectrum of existence."
"And that includes the most delicious parts of agony."
