The battlefield in Sector 12 was a hellscape of rotting flesh and gnarled bones, where the undead clawed and snarled at anything with a heartbeat. The stench of decay hung thick in the air, the scent mingling with the acrid tang of blood that slicked the ground beneath Kazuichi's boots. He stood amidst the wreckage, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he surveyed the carnage he had wrought.
His body felt different now—heavier, denser, yet thrumming with a newfound vitality that coursed through his veins like liquid fire. His muscles had grown, expanding with a power that was both exhilarating and terrifying. He could feel the strength coiled within them, ready to explode at a moment's notice, and yet, there was a strange calm that settled over him, a clarity that allowed him to see the battlefield with newfound precision.