Lenny stared down at the gaping hole in his chest, watching his own blood spill onto the ground.
Through the wound, he could see the snowy landscape behind him, an unsettling reminder of the damage he'd just taken. But despite the severity of the injury, Lenny didn't flinch.
Where a mortal man would have fallen, Lenny, now in the realm of a greater demon, stood firm. The injury was critical, yes, but not fatal—not yet.
With a grimace, Lenny called on his ability, the one that allowed him to control his body at the cellular level.
Concentrating on the torn flesh, he forced his cells to knit together, tightening around the wound to stop the bleeding. His chest still ached, and the hole was still there, but the bleeding had slowed, and his mind remained focused on the fight.
