Omniscient Extra's ViewPoint: Supreme Adaptation

"I wonder how May is faring—particularly in terms of managing the household. I need to be out of here at once," Vorden mused inwardly, his expression darkening.

He strode down the corridor, one hand raking through his hair as he scoured the surroundings for any sign of Wrex, who had seemingly vanished.

He threw open the doors to several rooms, only to find them empty.

Then, without warning, Wrex burst forth from a chamber behind him, locked in a vicious struggle with another Damien.

It appeared the horns were proving to be Wrex's downfall.

He seemed entirely incapable of battling a horned foe—a significant predicament, no doubt.

Vorden exhaled sharply and leaned against the wall.

His gaze fixed upon the skirmish as the Damien relentlessly slammed Wrex against the unyielding structure.

He did not intervene.

After all, he had promised Wrex the next kill. This was his fight to win—or lose.

"Well, you know, you could just grab its massive horn and rip it out—Blood! Then use the horn to kill it," Vorden suggested with a grin.

Wrex, still locked in combat, caught his words and wasted no time acting on them.

Despite the sharp, jagged spikes lining the creature's horn, he didn't hesitate.

Gritting his teeth, his eyes flared with determination as he tightened his grip and exerted his full strength.

With a savage yank, he tore one of the horns free.

The shore shrieked in agony, blood spurting from the wound as it staggered backward, colliding against the wall.

Finally liberated, Wrex wasted no breath.

Clutching the severed horn, he lunged forward and drove it deep into the creature's forehead, then into its eyes.

From there, he unleashed unrelenting carnage.

He tore through the beast without mercy, splattering the walls with its blood in a brutal, unrestrained massacre.

Of course, the shore ultimately fell at his hand.

Vorden clapped in approval.

However, as Wrex took a moment to steady himself, perhaps even to assess his spoils—

The doors to every room suddenly burst open.

Out came more Shores—Kelicans, gargoyles, and Damiens.

At least eighteen, or there about.

All of them charged straight for the pair.

"What the…?!" Wrex blurted out.

"Run into the depths of the corridor! We'll reappear behind them!" Vorden shouted, already springing into motion.

He summoned his blade and dashed into the darkened hallway.

A chorus of monstrous roars echoed in pursuit.

Wrex braced himself, then followed.

The loop had occurred again.

Yet, something had gone terribly wrong.

Vorden turned his head, expecting to see nothing but empty space where the creatures had once been.

Instead, they were still there, surging forward with the same relentless hunger, their snarls echoing through the narrow corridor.

'Shit. They had followed through the loop.'

He hadn't accounted for that.

The loop was supposed to displace them, severing their pursuit and buying him and Wrex time to reassess.

But now, it had only solidified their predicament.

He swiftly considered his options.

The walls were impenetrable, no hidden pathways revealed themselves, and attempting the loop again would likely yield the same results.

There was no escape, no immediate solution, no out.

That was rare.

And frustrating.

His grip on his sword tightened as his mind adjusted, shifting from seeking an escape to ensuring survival.

The reality was clear—they had to fight.

The first to reach him was a Kelican, its sinewy body twisted unnaturally, elongated arms ending in jagged talons meant to carve through flesh with ease.

It struck without hesitation, its claw aiming for his skull.

Vorden had already shifted before the attack was fully committed.

His body moved fluidly, avoiding the strike by the smallest of margins, his sword rising in a calculated counter.

The blade met resistance as it cleaved through the creature's forearm, severing flesh and splintering bone.

The Kelican let out a piercing shriek, its remaining hand lashing wildly, but Vorden twisted the blade upward, piercing through its throat in one clean motion.

The gurgling stopped instantly, and the body crumpled.

Further ahead, Wrex was locked in a brutal struggle against a Damien.

The Damien's barbed tail whipped forward, aiming to impale.

Wrex didn't evade.

Instead, he caught the tail mid-strike.

Muscles tensed as he wrenched the beast closer, bringing it within reach before smashing his elbow into its skull.

The impact was sickening, the force behind the blow fracturing bone instantly.

Vorden took note.

Wrex wasn't dodging.

He wasn't avoiding attacks at all.

He was taking the hits, absorbing the damage, and retaliating with sheer force.

Before he could think further, a gargoyle launched itself from above, wings folding mid-air as it descended upon him with a force meant to crush.

Vorden pivoted low, evading its full weight, and lashed his sword in a swift, upward spiral.

The steel met stone-like flesh, slicing cleanly through the creature's midsection.

The gargoyle crashed to the ground in a mangled heap, its upper half torn apart from its lower body.

The battlefield was shifting.

The creatures were pressing in.

Their numbers formed an unrelenting tide.

Vorden's movements became sharper.

His blade became an extension of his thoughts.

He adapted with every passing moment, his footwork adjusting to the rhythm of combat, ensuring not a single unnecessary movement was made.

Every attack landed.

His strategy was flawless—not a single wound marked his body.

Any injury, no matter how small, would hinder his ability to adapt, and he couldn't afford that.

Wrex, on the other hand, was a different force entirely.

Where Vorden calculated, Wrex overwhelmed.

His approach was chaotic, unrestrained, drenched in brutality.

His fists crushed skulls, his body took blows with reckless abandon, and any wound he sustained only seemed to fuel his onslaught.

At one point, a Shore managed to sink its fangs into his shoulder.

He didn't flinch.

Rather, he grinned, seized the creature by its throat, and crushed its head with his bare hands.

Blood splattered across the walls, staining the floor beneath him in a deep crimson.

Some of it wasn't even the enemy's.

Vorden exhaled sharply, his mind processing every detail, every flaw in their strategy.

The longer this dragged on, the more apparent it became—Wrex wouldn't last like this.

He was a bit powerful, but he was bleeding.

If they were going to survive this, Vorden had to finish it before Wrex reached his limit.

And he had to do it without taking a single wound.

'...Gone.'