The bastard stood over the crumpled body of the dead hero as steam and heat emanated from his skin, his power being forced to overdrive to compensate for his overreliance on his power.
"Guess I showed you how to properly use a life, eh?" the proclaimed bastard scoffed. "You might think my life has lost value because I can use it to infinity, but it's actually the most valuable, because I can use it as currency to buy any outcome I want."
The morning sun spilled through the shattered skylight above, slicing the dusty air with gold. The mall was silent now—no screams, no clash of steel, no frantic breath. Just footsteps, slow and deliberate, echoing through the blood-slick tiles.
He walked.
Each step squelched faintly. His body was still knitting itself together in microscopic patterns. Bone latticework humming with heat. Ligaments rebinding. Skin cells like soldiers, falling into line. The process burned, but he didn't wince, only the finishing touches were left, it was literally nothing compared to what he had just been through.
"It would be a pain if each fight with someone stronger than me took this much effort," He complained, flexing the bones in his neck. He turned around, looking at the battlefield where he had clawed his way to victory.
"I'm grateful for this power, really, but I wish it didn't leave as much of a mess as this." He shrugged as he gazed upon his numerous corpses. His chopped up limbs from the entrance were still entangled in the wires at the entrance, and from there, the shattered skulls and brain matter from his barely formed trials lay bare. It looked like an elephant had been slaughtered here, even though all the mass was from him.
"The human body really is a Beauty." He thought to himself, flexing his fingers. He had never appreciated them in his life before until now. He could move his fingers, his nerves connected to his muscles and tendons, those lifted the bone of his index finger and his skin felt the air around it, while his blood vessels kept the finger alive.
He had never appreciated life's beauty until he had momentarily lost it. Now he would use it to the fullest.
"Though I do hope this power doesn't have some sort of limit though." He thought aloud again as he walked forward, towards a shop with clothes he could use. They were probably in bad shape, but that was manageable. He thought about the Iron knight's probing on his weakness. As far as he was concerned, he had none. He could regenerate infinitely, and though he was scared he would meet his end here, the outcome of this battle proved his ability's strength and hardened his resolve.
"For us children born without any power-" He muttered bitterly, "-You will be the first I save, Lucille.'
"Hold on there." Another voice rang out through the mall he was sure had been empty a moment ago.
Eugh. Another fake hero he would have to fight and die to again? This was going to be a bore.
"But no matter how many tries, I will come out victorious." He muttered as he clenched his fists in preparation from conflict. Come out from the darkness, bro! No matter what, I'll win!"
"Only if your power is activated." The voice calmly stated, and now, he could hear an undertone of self-assured confidence in that voice.
He barely had time to look back when a blade ran through his arm. It wasn't as sharp and quick as the Steel Knight's blades, but they got the job done, moving through his forearm like butter, tearing through the nerves and bone.
Pain. Pain his mind had gotten used to but his body had not, blotted his vision once again. Blood was already pouring through the wound profusely. It was only a matter of time until-
"I won't let you." The voice said, as a figure closed the distance once again, and searing heat shot through the stump of his arm.
"Ah fire, that's something I haven't died to yet." He said as his body burned in pain. His mind felt alright, but he knew that was only because he was suppressing the larger part of his brain that was screeching like a banshee in pure agony.
"Oh no, I'm not going to kill you, kid." The voice said.
His mind struggled to understand, but once he did, he realized this strange person's intentions, and his blood ran cold. Immediately, searing pain appeared on his other arm, and the burning pain erupted alongside it.
"Cauterizing it so you don't bleed out." The voice explained. He couldn't see him in the first attack, but now that he was right in his line of sight, he still couldn't make out his features him, as the burning agony blinded his vision.
Gunshots rang through, and it took a moment to recognize that his kneecaps had been shot through, and he collapsed to the floor, flailing and writhing in unimaginable pain.
By now he would be dead. He would be healed to normal, but he wasn't.
"Brett was right, you know."
"Brett? Who the fuck was Brett?? The Iron Knight?" He thought as the pain stopped him from thinking properly. Was it possible to die from sheer pain?
"He was right about two things. One, that your power does have a limit. A significant one at that.
"You have to die for it to be activated."
And right now, this new entity was stopping him from dying. He couldn't bleed out, since his wounds had been cauterized.
"How can I die? How can I die?" He frantically ran through the possibilities, and then he morbidly imagined he was the first person in history to want to die so desperately. Or maybe not.
"Aha! He could smash his head on the floor. That would give him a concussion and brain damage! His neck was still working, all he had to do was throw it back and-"
A rope wrapped around his neck, preventing him from cracking his skull, but not tight enough to strangle him. He was still trying to wrap his mind around this person's power. They couldn't be a normal person. He didn't spot them the first time, they wielded some sort of sharp object to cut through him, fire to cauterize his wounds, a gun and a rope. None of that hinted at a specific power.
"And two, you don't know how to use your life." The mysterious entity voiced. "Throwing away your existence, that is a sacrifice most people cannot afford to make, and yet you rely on it, without improving any of your physical stats. Without death, you're just an average guy. And even I can deal with the average person."
The examination hit him like a punch to his gut, and he started sobbing. Now, he felt truly stuck.
"Don't worry, I'm not going to torture you forever or something sinister like that." The person said. "You should be glad those kinds of people didn't find out about you. No. I have practical uses for you."
"Damn you-" Was all he could muster as his front teeth were kicked in by a steel-toed boot. Some flew out, some dug deeper into his gums, causing bleeding, and another wave of pain washed over him. He felt his consciousness would fall apart any minute. He was used to taking as much pain as possible as long as it meant he would be healed in a couple of seconds.
"Keep quiet." The strange person said. "Don't draw undue attention to yourself. That's why you're in my grasp. This should knock you out."
And with that, a faintly metallic sound that felt like a sharp needle dug into his neck, and a fluid flowed through.
"DAMN YOU!" Was all he could muster through his broken teeth as his body grew cold and numb, and his consciousness truly closed off.
His final thoughts before he was pulled under to sleep were:
"How did I get myself into such a horrible situation?"