Reve had reached a conclusion as soon as he saw his skin regenerate back.
With his mind prepared, Reve dashed into the miasma. His speed resembled pure lightning as all that was visible was a bluish-green streak that rushed through the miasma.
'Oh damnation, the pain!!!' mentally screamed Reve.
He could feel each layer of his skin consecutively being peeled off. The miasma brushed on the part of his face that wasn't protected by the mask.
It was killing him. The only thing that kept him moving was willpower.
Yet, even for someone like him, it was beginning to prove futile.
His speed kept decreasing and he was losing momentum. What existed in his mind wasn't pain.
Instead, it was the bright light that kept showing in front of the massive gathering of green gas. That was the only thing he could think of.
He guessed, 'It is hope.'
