Chapter 45

  Idiot

  Ken didn't slow his pace until the pounding of his feet hit the gritty crunch of stone.

  His body, a constellation of deep aches and hairline cracks.

  The bears’ chi, potent, raw, and furious— a time bomb in his gut.

  He reached the high, jagged outcropping he now called home.

  He hissed as his head plunged into the small, cold spring.

  Ken scrambled up the face of the cliffs, collapsing into the deepest recess of the shallow cave.

  Ken stared into the orb.

  Face red cast from its flaring violent light.

  "No, I couldn't... I couldn't."

  The orb cratered into the stone beneath.

  The cave exploded with a crimson cloud of furious, ancient energy.

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  He was a ship lost at sea.

  The effect was not gradual assimilation.

  It was a physical invasion.

  No longer a man.

  A wall of fur, claw, and fang.

  Driven by a protective rage.

  The world is a cacophony of crushing pressure.

  The need to always be consuming, growing, ran rampant in his mind.

  The never ending struggle to fortify his bones against the weight of the world.

  Life a constant battle.

  Hide a manuscript of scars telling of his victories.

  Your Mind Is Your Own slammed home with a bestial roar.

  The mountain whined and pulled back.

  Static Compression.

  That echo of the Beast's memories cut through the red haze.

  Momentum recentered, solidified.

  It became unflinching in its path.

  Ken gasped, but no air came out.

  A ragged whimper rattled the darkness.

  His soul was screaming as the immense pressure built.

  Muscles pulled taunt, joints cracking, until the primal energy finally yielded.

  The beast collapsed onto the cold rock, drenched in sweat and utterly spent.

  My name is Ken.

  And I have a much bigger ball.

  The cave echoed with a long, ragged, satisfied sigh.

  “That wasn't so bad.”