"You transform into a seven-foot-tall monster with WINGS and CLAWS and HORNS. You've consumed demon hearts to fuel that power. You've slaughtered entire bloodlines. And you're STILL pretending like you're the good guy making tough choices!"
It released Jack's throat to backhand him across the face with enough force to snap his head sideways.
"You're not making tough choices! You're not some reluctant hero forced into violence! You ENJOY it! The killing, the power, the fear in your enemies' eyes when they realize they can't win! Stop pretending otherwise!"
{He's being very confrontational! Also, possibly correct! But mainly confrontational!}
Jack ripped his weapon hand free, Oscar's blade scoring across the shadow's ribs as he created separation.
Purple-and-black ichor sprayed across cracked obsidian.
The shadow laughed, ignoring the wound as it conjured another spear to replace the one Jack's strike had disrupted.
