666 vs. 431 [2]

Two doctors sat in silence, their eyes fixed on the monitors. No audience. No cheers. Just the hum of machinery and the raw clash of two awakened subjects locked in battle within an underground colosseum.

666 vs. 431.

A fight that had escalated far beyond skill—a war of affinities.

Dozens of ice javelins, crackling with streaks of red lightning, hurtled through the air toward 431.

They moved faster than the human eye could follow, faster than any dormant could react.

But 431 was no dormant.

He stood his ground, a grin splitting his face as his body shuddered—not with fear, but exhilaration.

An oppressive wave of bloodlust erupted from him, so potent it shattered nearby ice walls in an instant.

Azriel's voice echoed in his mind, a taunt meant to unsettle.

A laugh erupted from 431's chest, a sound so unhinged it sent shivers racing down Azriel's spine.