Simma's eye ignited a furious crimson, veins sprawling outward like dark rivers across the whites until they drowned in red. His canines lengthened into fangs; his other teeth sharpened, jagged and predatory, as though his mouth had been carved for blood.
His aura warped, coiling around him like a storm hungry to devour, his very presence becoming monstrous, parasitic, like a vampire thirsting for all that lived.
The surge of energy inside him was indescribable, and intoxicating. A torrent greater than anything he had felt in his lifetime. It was rage interwoven with unholy vitality, the very storm Zolomon had once warned him of, now feeding upon him, consuming him whole.
He lifted the blade, the very one he had driven through the chest of the blue-eyed apparition, and an evil smirk twisted across his face, cruel and void of remorse.
But then… darkness.
