Several minutes passed as the light of the moon skittered down through the ever-decreasing cloud cover. Scott, fearful of what he would see, stared down at the rooftop while he continued to squeeze his tail. He could sense the moon now that he'd managed to take a moment to try and think about what was happening to him. The fullness of the moon was obvious. Every cell in his body felt that fullness instinctively.

Incoherent noises escaped his lips as he fought the beast that dwelled within, a howling madness of fang and claw that sought to escape the prison of his feeble flesh. His breaths came heavy as he struggled to maintain his grip of the few shreds of sanity that remained to him.

Though he could barely speak, his mind raced. Thoughts of how he had gone from champion to burden on the mission left him uneasy. He was one of the true heavy hitters on the team, and the most versatile overall. The chances of completing the mission successfully without him were low. Each of the others held great skill and amazing power compared to a normal person, but their ranged damage potential was down to one person.

Saelil's magic was pretty much depleted and she would need to perform rituals to cast even a simple spell. Performing those rituals would not only require time and materials, but they would rip the very life from her body to fuel her power.

Kitty was basically a melee fighter, while Chaine's supply of ranged weaponry was mostly exhausted. Without ranged weaponry, they would be forced to plow through the horde and waste precious time. The thought of failure, of the princess not being rescued and the Red Robed asshole coming out on top caused Scott's pupils to narrow to angry feline slits.

He squeezed his tail roughly a few times to calm himself as the rage beast living inside of him attempted to force its way free once more. However, his calming moment of self-harm was interrupted by the howling screech of a berserker zombie.

Scott snapped his head toward the sound just in time to see the screeching undead crackhead launch itself toward him. Blue-gold electricity skittered along his body and rose to his throat. Acting on pure instinctual rage at the interruption, and overwhelming adrenaline, Scott unleashed a roar of his own.

His feroki, largely untouched at this point due to his lack of familiarity with it, turned the assault into a wave of energy that slammed into the fast moving monstrosity with brutal force. The creature's body explode backwards in a shower of bone and gore that fell from the roof and rained down upon several of its uncaring brethren below.

The rage rising even more, he rose to his feet as waves of blue-gold energy began to roil from his body and soon took on a strange composite form of lightning and flame. A low growl reminiscent of an angry sounding chainsaw reverberated from his throat as over a dozen zombies, and several night ghouls crawled up onto the roof.

While everything that existed in the world at that moment generated an unholy rage within him, the sight of the rotten bastards intruding on his rooftop caused him to briefly lose his tenuous grip on his remaining sanity.

Scott squatted a mere instant before he leapt forward with enough force to shatter the spot on the roof where he stood but a moment before. A burning beast of lightning and flame, he did not even take the time to scream out a challenge to his roof-invading visitors. He lashed out with his left hand and tore the head off of a night ghoul, a split-second before launching himself sideways. His elbow shot out and hit a zombie in the chest with enough force to make the back of its ribcage explode outward like a small explosive had gone off.

No hesitation, no thought, the enraged beast-man whirled around and slashed with a knife hand strike that brought with it the force of his feroki. A thin beam of blazing spiritual energy slipped through several of the zombies as though they were made of air. Scott ignored their existence after that as he was already moving onto the next group. He flew toward a blood ghoul with an outstretched knee, lighting and fire trailing in his wake. Behind him, the hapless zombies that he'd struck previously slowly fell into two distinct pieces each. Their decapitated heads hit the ground a moment after their rotting bodies.

Fast, far too fast for the blood ghoul to dodge his attack, Scott's knee slammed into its chin. The force traveled through the creature's head and exploded out of the back of its skull like a shotgun blast of rotting brains and blood soaked gore.

His hands blurred in a rapid series of strikes that tore away the unlives of several zombies, before turning quickly toward an onrushing group that approached from behind. Scott threw his hands back behind his body then slammed them forward and slapped his hands together. A wave of burning energy raced forward in a line and blew a hole through the center of the charging group.

The destroyed remains of several zombies went flying from the roof in burning chunks of gore, but the remaining five continued their mad rush toward him, their tongues lolling from their rotting maws. All around him, screaming monstrosities howled their desire to devour his sweet meats.

A snarl erupted from his throat, but died quickly as something caught his attention. One of the oncoming berserkers, what once had been a young girl, wore a torn and filthy maid's outfit. However, it was not the costume that caught his attention but what she wore atop her head. Scott's pupils narrowed to slits as he took in the sight of her upright cat ears.

"K-kitt—" began Scott, but he stopped mid-sentence. The world slowed to a crawl as he panted heavily. Despite the speed of the onrushing monstrosities, they seemed to barely move at all, as images assaulted Scott's mind. Rotting, missing one arm and part of her ribcage, the catgirl maid cosplayer suddenly morphed in his imagination. Instead of an unfortunate young girl, he saw Kitty's face. She was dead! Worse, she was a zombie!

He turned wild-eyed to look at the creatures around him. In their ruined faces he saw his companions.

The slow-motion zombie horde continuing to rush toward him at a snail's pace as the over-amped Ferakai warrior slapped his hands to the sides of his head and began to shake it fiercely. They weren't dead! They were still fighting, continuing the mission while he uselessly sat around and lost his shit.

"C-can't sit..." said Scott before he unleashed a low growl. He could not continue to sit on the roof! Scott brushed at a tickling sensation under his nose. He did not see it due to the fact that his focus was elsewhere, but bright red uncorrupted blood adorned his hand.

The world began to move quicker, not at full-speed yet, but at a much faster pace than before. The beasts were nearly upon him when Scott closed his eyes tight, a trickle of blood flowing from the rims of his eyes, and threw his head back. He attempted to cry out, "Enough!" but what came out of his throat was an inarticulate howl of absolute rage accompanied by blood-flecked spittle.

The power radiating from his body lashed out in an omni-directional wave of force that shattered the rooftop and flung away the monsters that sought to devour him. Their rotting bodies blew apart and splattered heavily against neighboring buildings or the street below.

Scott fell through the roof and landed on the floor below. Running on pure adrenaline he clapped his hands together once more and blew and hole through a nearby office wall. The wave of directed force continued onward and exploded through the outer wall of the building.

With no concern for the still growing horde of zombies on the street below he screamed out a challenge to all that stood before him and raced through the opening. He kicked off from the building and instinctively used the power granted by the gravitas flower and the boom seed to hurl himself downward like a streaking comet. He collided with the street below creating both a sizeable impact crater that dug deep into the sewer system and a wave of burning energy that washed outward obliterating everything in its path.

For the briefest of moment's the power and rage within him subsided to the point that an instance of clarity arose. He was powerful, far too powerful. He should not be this strong, even if the moon was as full as he suspected. In his other form, the giant beast mode, it might be different. His altered beast form, however, should not magnify his power to this degree. Something was wrong, terribly wrong inside of him.

The flickering flame of his aura began to burn brightly once more as he absorbed the moonlight. Minor scrapes and bruises faded away on the surface. His power surged and his moment of clarity began to fade away.

In the last few seconds of complete coherence that he retained, he promised himself that he would not look up no matter what happened. He could feel the fullness of the moon, its power, and its hold over his psyche. He could barely hold his sanity in place as things stood now. If he were to gaze fully at the moon in its fullness, perhaps even glimpse it accidentally, there would be no possible way for him to control the thing that emerged.

As his power rose, so too did his boiling hot rage. Scott scented the air like an animal, found Kitty's trail as her scent was most noticeable at the moment, then screamed out a warning to those who would stand in his way before he exploded forward at incredible speed.

He blazed through the streets, his aura raced outward completely out of control and knocked dozens of zombies aside like they were nothing more than leaves caught in a terrible wind. Those rotting leaves closest to him caught fire and exploded into viscera and gore as he passed through their ranks.

Zombies further away managed to survive his passing only to act in a peculiar manner. Some rolled over and began to wail fearfully while they covered their heads. Several mumbled, "I didn't mean it, bro!" Others cried out, "Sorry, bro!" or "Please forgive me!" They did not want their friend to think that they had meant to be rude on purpose.

A giant zombie with a massive axe leapt down from a rooftop and turned sideways toward him to bar his path. The massive creature double-fisted his axe and prepared to swing it like a bat, but Scott paid the supposed deadliness of the moment no mind. The massive creature barely had time to realize its own stupidity before the burning demon blew its arms and left leg off with a feroki empowered scream.

A strangled, high-pitched, shriek erupted from the giant zombie's mouth as it fell sideways. Scott raced past the beast and it caught fire in his passing. It screamed and writhed on the ground as the blue-gold power burned away at its rotting flesh.

Physical damage rarely caused the undead to feel a sense of pain. Their bodies were quite dead, and did not generally elicit such sensations. However, certain types of damage were felt well beyond the ability of a body's nerves to process. Tougher than a normal zombie by far, the creature was forced to suffer its agonizing end for a while instead of the instant destruction that its brethren enjoyed.

As Scott sped away, the beast called out, "Forgive me bro! I didn't know it was you!" It continued to whimper and writhe in its agony while begging its bro for its forgiveness.

In the distance up ahead, the night grew darker than it already was. Evil crimson-red clouds appeared overhead as a swirling tornado of equally red fog appeared in the moonlight. A system message appeared before Scott, but he was not currently capable of concern for such things.

[Warning]

You were too late. His preparations are complete.

The time of Infinite Sorrow has begun...

[--]

Though he did not pay attention to them due to his single-minded focus, had Scott maintained clarity of thought he would have noticed all of the zombies and blood ghouls in the area freeze in place then cry out in a single voice. Motes of light began to rise up out of their rotting shells then formed into glowing masses of energy. Soon, that energy flew toward the tornado in the distance. One by one, the dead fell to the ground, empty of even their semblance of former life.

Blood streamed from Scott's nose as he ran. Soon, it began to leak even more heavily from the rims of his eyes and from his ears. He did not notice. Sweat poured as he ran and rose up as steam as it desperately tried to cool his body, but soon even that stopped.

Scott flung himself up the side of a building that was directly in his path and raced across the rooftop. In a large open square, the red robed bastard hovered in the center of the crimson vortex. The ground was littered with the ruined corpses of the dead that served him all this time. However, there was movement.

He briefly took stock of the situation. In his dedicated madness, that infinitesimally short moment was the totality of what he could grant them. It was enough to shock him out of his current mindset to a minor degree. He stood there, chest heaving and his life's blood pouring from every orifice. As it dripped to the ground little puffs of steam rose up, a testament to the heat built within his body. Were it not for the regenerative effects of his transformation he would have long since died in a profoundly horrible manner. As things stood, his body barely held together at equal measure with his sanity, and he finally noticed.

"Is this how it ends?" he asked in a strangely calm voice. He could feel it, his body starting to fail.

His vision blurred, and he staggered heavily. The damage that he'd accumulated without realizing finally caught up with him.

Something was wrong inside of him, terribly wrong. He'd known it from the beginning. His body should have been able to handle the transformation even if his mind did not. An outside factor was at work, but it was impossible to think too clearly on the matter. Even now he could barely think about anything else but what was happening down below.

"I was always going to die," he said, his voice weak. "I knew that."

It was rapidly receding, the power the power and rage. Something inside of him had burst. Though he could not seem them, horrible bruises began to appear on several parts of his body. "I have nothing left..." he said in a trembling whisper. Scott's body wobbled suddenly and his legs gave out. A sudden fit of coughing overtook him. Thick wads of blood and spittle flew from his mouth and he gurgled loudly.

With power and rage subsiding, it was impossible to keep his body going. He reached for a restorative drink in the vain hope that it would heal what his absurd regeneration could not. His hand froze in the air, however and his eyes narrowed. His senses were much sharper than normal despite the fact that even the full moon could not regenerate his damaged body fast enough to overcome the horrors he had wrought upon it. What he saw in the distance was a smile, the smug self-aggrandizing smile of a creature who believed that he had won. Nothing could stand against him.

Scott's lip curled upward and he unleashed a hateful snarl, and the blue-gold fire reignited. The blood poured hotly from every open orifice on is body "How many..." he said, "How many more?"

"The people of this world live in hell..." he said as the energy within him rose once again.

The bastard sent a wave of wind toward Scott's companions. They were sent flying, and were obviously in pain as their screams reached him above the roaring of the wind. "I was dead the moment I agreed to this stupid game, but they are only involved because of me. No one deserves that fucker down there, especially not them."

There was no pain. He could no longer feel his body dying, he was beyond such concerns now. There was only adrenaline, rage, and a strangely serene acceptance of his oncoming fate. The obelisk could revive him, but only if his companions won and dragged his corpse back to it so they could pay the price. At the moment that seemed hopeless. His life did not matter, not now. Nothing mattered but what he saw down below.

They were there in the square down below, his companions. Chaine held Vita's limp body cradled in his arms. Samantha fired at the red robed fiend in a futile attempt to breakthrough a barrier that surrounded him. Kitty protected Saelil, who seemed to favor her left arm after that attack.

"D-don't look up," barked Scott to himself as a reminder not to make the situation worse by looking at the moon. Who knew what would happen if he did? He gritted his blood-stained teeth immediately after those words left his lips. "Don't look back."

There was only one direction to look now that the end of his story had come. Everything he needed to kill. Everything he needed to protect. It was down in the square below.

The fires of his rage blazed brighter than ever even as the damage to his body intensified. The blood poured more freely than ever before. Scott exploded off of the roof and used his gravity power to angle his body toward the robed bastard at a forty-five degree angle.

An ear-splitting scream of absolute rage erupted from his throat even as his fist slammed forward and began to glow brightly like a falling star. His target, the hateful bastard's smug smile.

One punch. Everything. All that he had left; all at once. All for that stupid face.