Silence descended upon the ruined throne room, a stark contrast to the violence that had just transpired. Vell stood amidst the carnage, his chest heaving, his body still trembling slightly, but his expression was now calm, almost serene. The blood that covered him seemed to blend into his skin, a part of him.
He looked at his hands, flexing his fingers, testing their strength. The sharpened claws were gone, his nails now normal, but he could still feel a lingering echo of power, a sense of untapped potential that thrilled him. He licked the remaining blood from his fingers with a soft chuckle, finding an odd sense of satisfaction in the taste.
He took a deep breath, the air filling his lungs, 'wow.' The red light that had engulfed the room faded, replaced by a soft glow from the torches that still flickered on the walls. The scent of blood lingered in the air, but it no longer felt oppressive, it was more like a reminder of what he had just accomplished.
