As he raised his head, a gasp escaping his lips, Lucian realized that the impossible was happening: somehow, he was recovering.
As the waves of agony ebbed, Lucian found himself slowly rising from the ground, his limbs moving with a renewed strength that belied his injuries. Each breath no longer felt like a struggle against knives in his chest, the cloying fog of pain receding from his mind. He was far from fully healed, but the very fact that he could stand, that he could now look his enemies in the eye, was nothing short of miraculous.
Lucian's mind, now free from the crippling restraints of pain, began to whirl with possibilities, his intellect as sharp as a honed blade. The strange, impossible healing that had occurred couldn't be a coincidence, he reasoned.
Is my body healing itself? He asked himself. Is regenerating part of the perks of having the system?
Even though his recovery wasn't enough to put him back at full strength, the newfound sharpness in Lucian's mind was a potent weapon in its own right. With the fog of pain clearing, he could now see the two brutes clearly now and a plan was beginning to form in his head.
The two brutes were like raging cyclones of destruction, sweeping aside anyone who dared stand in their path. And yet, for all their power, they needed room to maneuver, their fighting style predicated on speed and space. It was this very fact that had drawn them to the center of the block, the spot where the gaps between prisoners were widest, their victims like doomed ships buffeted by the raging storms of their fists.
Lucian's mind raced, piecing together a plan of attack. The key to defeating these brutes, he realized, was not to face them head-on, not to attempt to match their power with his own. Instead, he needed to change the very battlefield itself, to force these titans into a tight, claustrophobic space where their strengths would be nullified. If he could somehow lure them into a corner, into the very spaces they were so adept at exploiting, they would become like caged beasts, deprived of the freedom of movement that made them so dangerous.
The risk of such a tactic was not lost on Lucian. He would be placing himself in the very danger zone he sought to create for the brutes. Once within the confines of that space, he would be trapped, a mouse in a cage with two ravenous lions. There would be no room to evade, no space to dodge, only the desperate struggle for survival against two opponents who would show no mercy. But, he reminded himself, the very desperation of his situation required a gamble, a reckless play that might turn the tides.
Lucian knew that his chances of escaping a second time were slim at best. These brutes were not the kind to make the same mistake twice, and their thirst for blood would not be sated by anything less than his utter annihilation. So, he needed a strategy that would work against the brutes' strengths, a way to rob them of their speed and leverage their size against them. It would have to be a plan that was as cunning as it was daring, a gambit that could turn the tides of battle in his favor.
In the dank, claustrophobic space that he now occupied, with his back pressed against the cold concrete wall, Lucian found the perfect site for his plan. The narrowness of the corner he occupied, the bare minimum of space between the wall and the solid metal bars, presented a challenge that even the brutes' might couldn't easily overcome. Only a smaller, nimbler fighter could move with ease in such a tight spot, which played directly into Lucian's strengths.
The chaotic aftermath of the prisoners violence had transformed the corner into a treacherous arena, the floor slick with a gruesome mixture of blood and water. The uneven footing would further hinder the brutes' already reduced mobility, forcing them to fight with greater care to avoid slipping and leaving them open to Lucian's counterattacks. It was a risky strategy, fraught with peril, but one that offered a slim glimmer of hope against the overwhelming odds that faced him.
Lucian rose to his feet, his limbs trembling with the effort but his resolve unwavering. The femur, a gruesome testament to the brutes' prior savagery, was now a weapon in his hands. He gripped it tightly, a mordant smile playing on his lips. He could feel the blood coursing through his veins, his heart beating in a savage rhythm that matched the thrill of the upcoming fight.
He went to the closest metal bar and tapped the bone against it.
Hey you two! Ugly big guys!
The sudden clatter of bone against steel cut through the din of battle, the brazen challenge carrying across the cell like a clarion call. The brutes, caught off guard by the interruption, turned to face the source of the noise. Their surprise was palpable, their eyes narrowing in anger as they recognized Lucian. He was standing defiantly, the grin on his face a mask of defiance.
The brutes' rage was palpable, a furious heat rising from their muscles as their anger flared like wildfire. They had made the mistake of underestimating Lucian once, and the fact that he had survived their prior assault only made his insult that much more galling. They were huge, hulking creatures, their frames bulging with raw strength, and yet this puny boy, this insignificant insect, had dared to defy them. The arrogance of it, the sheer audacity of his challenge, was enough to send their blood boiling.
The brutes advanced, their steps measured, each footfall heavy with the promise of pain. They were no longer the raging whirlwinds of destruction that had swept through the cell moments ago. Instead, they moved with a chilling, predatory patience, the anger in their eyes tempered by a cold, cruel calculation. They knew they had make a mistake letting Lucian go before, but they would not repeat that mistake.
His lips curved in a sneer as he saw them approaching. Why are you walking so slow? He yelled. Scared of a little boy?!
Lucian's words were like fuel to the flames of the brutes' anger, stoking their fury to new heights. Their faces twisted into bestial snarls, exposing the rows of sharpened teeth within. They quickened their pace, their massive frames barreling towards Lucian with the fury of an avalanche.
Lucian's retreat was a measured, strategic one, each step backwards a deceptively casual act of deception. He knew that if he were to run outright, the brutes' predatory instincts would kick in, their speed and agility easily outpacing his own. Instead, he feigned nonchalance, keeping his eyes fixed on their approaching forms, his expression a careful mask of defiance. With every step backwards, he drew the brutes closer to the narrow corner, the tight space where he could exploit their size against them.