Chapter 178: Raj Goes Berserk.

『"Wendigo Raj."』

The punch struck Dante’s high-pitched wall of sound, and the sonic barrier shredded through Malachi’s fist, tearing away the flesh and muscle until only the bones of his hand remained.

Yet the attack didn’t stop. His skeletal fist punched straight through the barrier and slammed into Dante with enough force to send him flying across the battlefield.

He disappeared into the distance, hurtling for miles before another shockwave erupted from the impact, rippling across the battlefield and kicking up clouds of dust and debris.

Almost immediately, flesh began crawling over Malachi’s exposed bones. Muscle wrapped around his metacarpals, followed by tendons and skin until his hand was completely restored.

Malachi flexed his fingers once. Then he looked at Amara. "Your turn to fly, bitch."

He disappeared again, and Amara’s tense body took a stance as her eyes swept through her surroundings.

Even with her Intent Sight, Amara barely caught the movement. Malachi was faster now. Much faster. Whatever restraint he’d been showing before was gone.

Ethan looked back from the tilting aircraft, but he was a fraction of a second too late.

She closed her eyes. She knew what was coming and braced herself for the impact. Instead, a violent rush of air swept across her face.

Amara’s eyes snapped open.

Raj stood beside her, his enlarged hand held inches from her face with Malachi’s fist buried in his palm.

For a moment, Amara could only stare. Relief washed over her so suddenly that she didn’t even stop to question how Raj had managed to intercept him.

She simply exhaled, hands on her knees. "Phew..." Then she straightened her posture and looked at Raj. "That was frightening."

Raj didn’t seem to be listening as his fingers tightened around Malachi’s fist. Then he swung his other hand.

The punch sent Malachi flying backward. He crashed into an overturned armored vehicle, crushing the wreckage beneath him before the damaged machinery exploded into flames.

Amara stared after him, then looked at Raj. "I definitely didn’t want to get sent flying like Dante."

Raj didn’t respond. He simply cracked his knuckles and started walking toward the burning wreckage.

"Raj?" Amara’s relief faded. She reached out and touched his arm. He was freezing.

Amara pulled her hand back slightly. A thin mist escaped Raj’s mouth with every breath, and her eyes widened.

When Raj finally turned his head toward her, his eyes were blue. But not the same blue as hers. They were much paler, almost icy. And a streak of white had appeared at the front of his hair.

Amara’s breathing quickened. "Raj..." She didn’t have time to say anything else.

The wreckage exploded outward, and Malachi emerged from the flames, cracking his neck as he stepped through the smoke.

His eyes immediately settled on Raj, and his grin returned. "You’re a big one." He tilted his head. "But something’s not quite right with you."

"Oh, well." Malachi charged.

Raj met him halfway.

"Raj, wait!" Amara shouted, but he didn’t stop.

Their fists collided, and the impact sent another shockwave through the battlefield.

Just then, Ethan and Sophia hurried back to the battlefield, pulling up next to Amara.

Ethan glanced toward the battlefield before looking at her. "Jerry’s been sent to safety."

Sophia nodded over to the transport. "Maya’s with Hiro. They’re getting ready for departure." She looked between them. "What’s going on?"

Amara stared at Raj, then at the ground. "Raj..." Her voice trembled. "He’s not himself."

Amara looked at Ethan and saw his jaw tighten from watching Raj. "Ethan, I—I’m—"

He pulled her into a hug before she could finish. "It’s okay."

Amara froze for a moment before closing her eyes, leaning into the embrace.

Meanwhile, Raj and Malachi continued trading blows.

Malachi’s fist smashed into Raj’s ribs, but the damage vanished almost immediately. Raj’s body regenerated before the injury had even fully registered.

Malachi’s eyes widened as he delivered another blow.

Raj’s head snapped backward. Then he grinned and drove his forehead into Malachi’s face.

CRACK!

Malachi staggered backward. He saw Raj’s psychotic grin and answered it with one of his own. "Not bad, bitch." As Raj lunged, Malachi’s grin only widened. "You can dance."

Raj swung. Malachi slipped beneath the punch, spun, and drove his forearm into Raj’s face, only for the arm to be caught between Raj’s teeth.

Malachi’s eyes widened as Raj tore away a chunk of flesh and swallowed it.

"Shit..." Sophia muttered.

Amara and Ethan glanced at her before turning their attention back to the insane exchange unfolding before them.

There was a brief silence as Malachi stared at the missing piece of his arm. Then he burst out laughing. "You’re fucking crazy." His grin widened. "This is good. Real good, bitch!"

He swung with his other arm, the same arm Amara had nearly severed earlier. The punch caught Raj squarely and sent him flying backward.

He crashed to the ground several meters from Amara, Ethan, and Sophia.

"Raj, that’s enough," Ethan said, stepping forward as Raj slowly pushed himself up.

"We need to work together. Put him down long enough to get on that transport." Ethan pointed toward the aircraft, its thrusters already firing.

"No," Raj said.

The Martyr paused to watch the exchange between them. For some reason, their argument seemed to amuse him.

"Raj, stand down," Amara said, recognizing the signs now—the aggressive posture, the dismissal, the hunger for violence that superseded self-preservation.

"That’s the curse talking, man," Sophia added. "You need to—"

"I’m fine," Raj interrupted, not taking his eyes off the Martyr. "I’m better than fine. I can take him."

"Give me a break," Ethan said. "You’re clearly compromised and not thinking at all. Stand. Down."

In the moment of silence that followed, Amara thought Raj might actually listen.

She hoped the rational part of him, the friend who had trained alongside them, might reassert control over whatever the curse was doing to his judgment.

"Raj?" She reached out to touch his shoulder.

Instead, Raj’s breastplate flared, and he charged after the Martyr.