Opening the Domain

As Johnny, the hulking, grotesque man, toyed with his collection of instruments, deciding which would bring him the most joy in torturing Cassian next, something miraculous—no, terrifying—began to unfold.

Cassian's battered body, once a canvas of bleeding wounds, started to heal right before Johnny's eyes. The torn flesh knitted itself together as though invisible threads were pulling it taut. Deep gashes smoothed over, the skin rippling like molten wax as it sealed seamlessly. His wounds closed with a speed that defied logic, the grotesque process mesmerizing and horrifying all at once.

His crimson hair, now flowing like it was caught in an unseen breeze, glowed faintly, a fiery aura radiating from every strand. The red light enveloped his entire frame, pulsing with an intensity that made the air around him hum. It wasn't just light—it was rage, pure and unfiltered, oozing from every pore.