107. No Regrets
"Y-You… You will never… win!"
"Oh dear brother, if I were you, I'd save my breath. After all, it might very well be your last."
Pain. Excruciating never-ending organ rendering pain.
Michael felt like he was being tortured. Currently, on the uppermost layer of the hideout, Michael was on his knees while Sam was caressing his head.
Upon taking a closer look at the brothers, one would see that the hand Sam was caressing Michael with was sparkling with tendrils of violet electricity.
What was Sam doing, you ask? He was enhancing Michael's ability. The ability to manipulate the very fabric of space.
One could argue that if trained properly, the holder of this ability would become nothing short of a god.
Unfortunately for Michael, the spot of god was already filled by his own half-brother.
"Wh-Wha… are… you doing…?" With a weak, feeble voice comparable to that of a child, Micheal blurted out while barely enduring the pain.