Grey’s body spun through the air, holding out his spear with a wide grin on his face. He raised his free hand to his forehead and swiped it down. Digital pixels of crimson bloomed and the Helm Frame took shape over his head.
His jaw unhinged and he chomped down, the echo of metal clashing against metal pooling into the air. It clashed against the howls coming from the abyss below and his roar shattered another blooming flower of arms and hands that formed in front of him.
He felt the Mechanical Jaw Spirit within him shift the moment the Helm Frame appeared. It tried to pour into the Helm Frame, but it was blocked.
Even so, Prometheus shifted, matching the rhythm of the Mechanical Jaw Spirit and they formed an odd resonance between one another.
All of a sudden, the excess energy that Grey hadn’t managed to fuel his body with and was currently expelling through his roars spilled into the Helm Frame instead.
All at once, the Helm Frame was topped up on energy, and then in the next instant it was like the Skrill Mask, the Helm of Grace, and the Crimson Helm took another step forward.
Grey’s laughter shook the skies and he spun his spear in his hand, shifting in the air until his feet were beneath him again.
Flickering flames danced to life beneath the spikes of his soles. He twirled his spear in his palms again, snapping his fingers over it to grind it to a halt.
The world roared to life around him, dancing lights of red and gold pooling in the air in sparking flames until magnetic lines forming butterfly wings bloomed from his back.
Grey couldn’t remember the last time he had felt so good.
Chi.
His spear thrust down and he split an arm in two.
His jaw unhinged and he swallowed it whole, his chest expanding before he boomed out with another roar.
Concentric circles of shattering sound waves peeled forward as though it was ripping back layers of space and the void.
Everything that got even close was ripped to shreds.
BOOM. BOOM. BOOM.
Darkness should have descended around Grey already, and yet the surroundings only seemed to be coming brighter and brighter.
Grey’s body glowed like a raging sun, and the hands around him reacted even more fiercely to it than it had against the Holy Energy.
No... Grey wasn’t like a raging sun.
He was his own raging star, and the Old Ones didn’t like that at all.
Grey’s hand flashed out, the claws of his pimp gloves catching the flesh of a hand that tried to blitz by him.
He tore down its length, ripping off large strips of flesh and swallowing it whole.
It seemed he had gotten over the problem of raw meat entirely, nor did he seem to care just how human-like these arms were. All he cared about was one thing.
Victory.
BOOM.
Grey’s butterfly wings spread out far and wide, his momentum slowing considerably right before he slammed down onto a cobblestone path that looked like it had been fired to the point its top layers were all nothing but ash.
Arms came up like cornfields to its left and right. However, not a single one of these arms seemed to be able to cross onto the path itself.
Up ahead, a cloaked figure sat on a throne. Even with the distance separating them, Grey could hear the raspiness of its breath. It was a breath underlied with echoes of pain and discomfort.
They didn’t like the light coming from Grey at all.
What a shame.
"Gnome." A raspy voice as deep as the abyss they were in echoed.
"Gnome?" Grey chuckled.
Actually, he guessed that made sense. He still didn’t have a full Frame, but he felt so powerful. The only explanation for that was that the Mechanical Jaw Spirit had fundamentally changed his body.
Essentially, he had gained the equivalent of what he had managed to take from Elowen and her sister.
Bloodline.
The value of the Mechanical Jaw Spirit was well beyond just the fact it would make his mechs stronger. It gave him the characteristics of the Gnome Race.
Now, he had benefited greatly from the Goblins and now the Gnomes. If he could find some damn time, he could probably benefit a great deal from the witches too.
At this point, he should make the Dark Kin his enemies purely out of respect for the benefits the Savage Races kept giving him.
And luckily for the Savage Races, the Dark Kin seemed to be intent on making themselves his enemy as well.
"A shame." Grey said. "I benefited from the Vampires a lot too. We could have made a great tag team."
The Old One didn’t reply, but Grey could feel its confusion.
BOOM.
Amunet landed on the ground heavily, coughing up a mouthful of blood.
Grey looked back. "You’re really crimping my style."
Amunet didn’t respond, trying to stand a bit shakily.
"YOU—!" The Old One pointed at Amunet with a bony finger.
Grey cringed. The finger wasn’t just bony. In fact, it would have been better if it was all bone.
But it looked like much of the flesh had rotted away, leaving tidbits of flesh and ligaments behind that were barely able to control it.
"Gross."
"The Lineage of the Old Ones is not something a human child can possibly touch. Return what is not yours."
Amunet held up a middle finger despite her struggles and Grey couldn’t help but laugh.
"6 out of 10. Could use an extra bit of sauce. I definitely would have done better."
Amunet gave him a glare, but Grey had already looked back toward the rotting, wrinkled bastard.
BOOM.
Grey’s pupils constricted and he looked up. Even though he was still shining bright now, his own light wasn’t large enough to reach all the way up. However, that... didn’t sound good.
The Old One cackled. "Your city will fall upon your heads very soon. Then we will all be buried here in the darkness.
"Every will be buried in—."
"Oh shut up." Grey vanished.