The heavy wooden door of room 555 clicked shut, sealing out the iron scent of the Iron-Bark Flats and the lingering echoes of the systematic slaughter.
Inside, the fortified walls hummed with the ancient tree's life force, a low-frequency vibration that acted as a balm for Kale's frayed nerves.
He felt the weight of his evolution pressing against his consciousness, the raw, supernatural power of a Hexarion Human coupled with the mental strain of commanding a creature that technically shouldn't exist.
Neo, the Nemesis Hydra, flapped its small green wings and landed on the stone table, shaking its three heads to clear away the phantom taste of Ravager-rank blood. Despite the beast's draconic arrogance, it was exhausted.
The concentrated psychic frequency of the Rattling Roar had drained its nascent mental reserves.
