Blood lay on the floor, creating dark, splotchy patterns that seemed to tell a grim tale. Erik and Valcroy stood at the center of the storm, with the guttural aura crashing down on them like a tornado bent on ripping them apart. Each onslaught was a brutal symphony of agony, filled with the grinding of bones, the sickening sound of organs rupturing, and the horrific tendons tearing. It painted a scene that would haunt any who dared to witness it: two figures, resolute yet battered, fighting against an overwhelming tide of pain.