"Control it, Ren," Zhao murmured, observing the black marks with genuine concern. "Please... That doesn't look healthy. What happened to your mana system?"
But Ren was no longer listening to advice or questions. Energy flowed through him like an overflowing river, amplifying not only his power but also his emotions. Every injustice in life, every moment of powerlessness, every time he had had to accept that he was "too young" to really help his parents.
"If you want to take us back," he declared, his voice resonating with harmonics that shouldn't exist in his throat, "you're going to have to defeat us first."
The black marks extended down his arms, and the mana around him began to condense in quantities that made even Zhao step back half a pace.
The air itself seemed to thicken with power.
Ren no longer wanted to feel like a child playing at being an adult.
