Quoted By:
"W-W-W-W-W-W-W-Wait just a moment!"
Ivankov protests.
"T-There's no need to go through with this, right? Right?! I'm sure we can talk things through like civilized people. Right?"
"Nah."
You crack your knuckles.
"Sorry. I was gonna hurt you once very badly for slaving. But then you just had to go ahead and resist! Then you messed with my body which I did not like. Not one bit. So sorry, not sorry. Imma kill you now!"
"...EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEH?!"
Ivankovs tongue flies out of his mouth and his eyes bulge from the shock.
"SLAVING?! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?!"
"Those people. In the chains. Remember?"
"SLAVING?! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT OR WHO THOSE PEOPLE WERE?! They were the scum of the earth! They were treating my Okama lovelies like a, like a bunch of animals! They were hunted down for sport! You have SYMPATHY for fiends like that?!"
"Nah. I just hate those who put others in chains. Shoulda just killed them. Speaking of which. Less talking, more dying."
With your left hand you grab your shoulder as you give it a few twists to limber up before initiating your transformation. A devious idea pops in your mind as you think of ways to dispose of this horrible man. You decide on combining two of your forms. Melchahim and Dumahim. Your arms swell greatly and a flame sprouts from the hairy palms which you clench down on. And begin channeling your armament into it in preparation for the Silver Voice.
"Alright! Prepare yourself! Silver Style-"
You wind up and Ivankov begins to beg.
"Oh God! Please save me so I may continue to serve Dragon! I serve I shall become celibate! For at least a week!"
"SO LONG! TYRANT-"
You deliver an uppercut to Ivankovs gut with your right arm and send him into the sky as your left arm opens up. The metal spike, fully charged with armament flies out as Ivankov falls in position.
"-SCREAM!"
A great vortex if heavy flame shoots out, propelled by the bunker buster in your arm. The strength and heat of a volcanic eruption shoots out in a straight line... right past Ivankov. Snot starts drooping from your nose as reality sets in.
"I missed."
