Alex's determined strides brought him to the entrance of the abandoned building, its weathered walls looming before him like silent sentinels of the past. With a resolute exhale, he stepped inside, the air thick with a sense of forgotten history. Moonlight streamed through broken windows, casting eerie shadows that danced across the debris-strewn floor.
His eyes fell upon a spacious area, its emptiness offering an ideal canvas for his practice. Drawing upon the power coursing within him, Alex extended his arm, palms facing outward. A surge of energy surged through his veins, his blood responding to his will. Blades formed from crimson mist coalesced in his grasp, gleaming ominously in the pale light.
With a deft flick of his wrist, the blades were unleashed, slicing through the air in a controlled arc. They struck their intended target with satisfying precision, embedding themselves into the worn wood. A sense of satisfaction welled within Alex as he marvelled at the results of his newfound ability. The power to conjure these ethereal blades was a marvel that both fascinated and empowered him.
He continued his practice, honing his control over the blades. Each throw became a meticulously calculated experiment, testing the boundaries of his newfound power. He experimented with different techniques, adjusting the angle and force of his throws. The blades whizzed through the air, each strike landing with unerring accuracy.
Emboldened by his progress, Alex shifted his focus to testing his strength and speed. With a burst of energy, he propelled himself across the room, his movements a blur as he dashed from one end to the other. He could feel the surge of power coursing through his muscles, propelling him faster than he had ever thought possible. It was exhilarating, a rush of adrenaline that fueled his determination.
He paused to catch his breath, a satisfied grin tugging at his lips. His strength had undeniably grown, his body now a wellspring of newfound might. It was a testament to the transformative nature of his Sanguine heritage, a choice he now regarded as a wise one.
A sense of curiosity tugged at him, urging him to explore the extent of his abilities. With a focused thought, Alex turned his attention to the unique trait of his lineage—the ghoul's wings. Determination etched across his features, he shed his clothes, revealing his toned physique. With a surge of power, his back rippled with a strange sensation as four crimson-hued wings unfurled.
Flexing his newfound appendages, Alex marvelled at the metallic sheen of the wing. While it was called a wing, it was more like an extra hand than a wing. Tentatively, he shifted his weight, feeling the subtle tug and resistance of the wings. With a graceful motion, he took his first step, a strange sensation coursing through him as he walked with ethereal grace.
Lowering himself to the ground, Alex's focus shifted to testing the strength of his wings. He approached a heavy object, his muscles tensing as he wrapped his fingers around it. With a powerful surge, he lifted the object effortlessly, his wings providing an unexpected source of strength.
A sense of accomplishment swelled within him as he set the object down. Alex couldn't help but marvel at the incredible power he now possessed.