Behind the Red Door

Kael's world went dark as his rage reached its boiling point. The red messages flashing through his mind blurred together, his body succumbing to an overwhelming force. Muscles bulged and contracted unnaturally, veins pulsing with raw energy.

[Berserk Form Activated]

[Host will now be fueled by rage]

[Warning! Devastating injuries detected]

[Due to the passive title Survivor, the host's vitality and tenacity are now augmented by ten percent]

Butcher's scowl deepened as his fist halted mid-air, blocked with an ease that sent a ripple of unease through him. "Flashy trick, freak," he sneered, masking his growing frustration. "But it won't change the outcome. You'll still be crushed."

His bravado barely concealed his irritation. Butcher had fought countless opponents, yet this was different. Kael stood firm, his newly transformed body now towering over him. His piercing, pupilless eyes glowed with an eerie purple-white light, his expression unreadable, his form radiating unbridled power.

Without another word, Butcher lunged, steel-forged limbs screeching against the ground, sending sparks flying. His speed was terrifying—far greater than before. But just as he swung a devastating punch toward Kael's chest, his target vanished.

A rare sensation of danger prickled down Butcher's spine. His instincts screamed, and he dodged to the left just in time. A gust of wind brushed his face as Kael's fist missed by mere inches, the force alone causing a tremor through the arena.

The spectators fell silent, their cheers for Butcher swallowed by shock. They had expected Kael to fall—but now, he stood reborn, his Berserk Form amplifying his speed and strength to unfathomable levels. The air itself seemed to crackle with his energy.

Butcher's bravado wavered, if only for a moment. "What the hell are you?" he growled, his voice laced with both anger and something close to fear. He had underestimated Kael—and that mistake might cost him dearly.

Kael barely registered the words. The messages in his mind urged him forward, pushing him to strike harder, faster. He launched his next attack, his fist aimed straight for Butcher's midsection.

Butcher braced himself, countering with a powerful swing of his own. Their blows met with an earth-shattering impact, sending debris flying and splitting the ground beneath them. As the dust settled, both fighters stood firm, muscles tensed, breaths heavy.

Kael's body pulsed with adrenaline, his focus razor-sharp. Every fiber of his being was primed for battle. Butcher, on the other hand, recalibrated. He had faced monsters before, but Kael—Kael was something else entirely. And yet, the thrill of the challenge ignited a fire in him.

"You're strong," Butcher admitted, a grudging respect creeping into his tone. "But strength alone won't save you. Let's see how you handle this!"

With a roar, he charged again, steam hissing from his reinforced limbs. His attacks came in a rapid flurry—each punch a blur, meant to force Kael into defense. But it was a ruse. The real attack came a heartbeat later, a sudden pivot and a brutal kick aimed at Kael's knee.

If it landed, it would disrupt Kael's balance, stripping him of his greatest advantage—his speed.

The impact was solid. Butcher smirked—until he realized something was wrong.

Kael hadn't dodged. He hadn't even tried to evade. Instead, he had let the kick shatter his knee—an impossible sacrifice.

And in the next instant, with terrifying ferocity, Kael lunged forward and smashed his head into Butcher's skull.

The force sent Butcher stumbling back, his vision flickering from the sheer impact. Blood trickled down his forehead, his enhanced body struggling to keep up with the unexpected counterattack. Kael did not give him a moment to recover. With a guttural roar, he surged forward, his hands like claws as he grabbed Butcher by the throat and slammed him into the cracked ground.

The crowd gasped as the arena trembled from the sheer impact. Butcher struggled against Kael's grip, but the berserk warrior's strength had reached terrifying heights. He tightened his hold, his grip unrelenting.

Butcher's eyes widened as he felt something he hadn't in years—fear. He activated his internal boosters, his reinforced limbs glowing red-hot as he pushed back with everything he had. The force sent Kael skidding back, momentarily loosening his grip. Seizing the opportunity, Butcher delivered a brutal uppercut, sending Kael soaring through the air before crashing into the far wall of the arena.

Kael staggered to his feet, blood dripping from his mouth, but his eyes—those glowing, haunting eyes—only burned brighter. The pain no longer mattered. The messages in his mind urged him forward. He was beyond exhaustion, beyond reason. He was rage incarnate.

Butcher wiped the blood from his brow, breathing heavily. "Fine," he muttered, rolling his shoulders. "Let's take this up a notch."

With a twisted grin, he activated his final mode—his body pulsating with newfound energy.

The silver steel arms and legs echoed with the rotating and whirring of gears. Large puffs of steam escaped from them, filling the ground with a thick, metallic haze. His muscles twitched as hidden compartments along his arms slid open, revealing jagged, electrified blades that crackled with deadly energy.

He then came at Kael like a mechanical whirlwind, his electrified blades singing through the air. Kael, despite his shattered knee, found himself moving with an unnatural grace, fueled by the relentless tide of rage. He dodged and weaved, the blades leaving sizzling trails in their wake.

Each movement was agony, the pain from his mangled knee screaming for him to stop. But the Berserk Form suppressed it, replacing it with a burning need to destroy. He was no longer Kael, the survivor, but something else entirely – a vessel for pure, unadulterated rage.

He knew this power was dangerous, unsustainable. The flashing warnings in his mind reiterated the damage he was inflicting upon himself. But he couldn't stop, wouldn't stop. Not until Butcher was broken.

He used the cage to his advantage, leaping off the walls, using the momentum to propel himself into Butcher with bone-jarring force. He aimed blows at the joints in Butcher's armor, the weak points in his mechanical frame. Each hit was a calculated risk, leaving him vulnerable to the whirling blades.

But the blades found their mark. Slashes appeared across his chest and arms, leaving blackened, smoking wounds. The electricity coursed through his veins, further fueling his rage, further damaging his body. The 'Survivor' title kicked in, a meager ten percent boost struggling to keep up with the onslaught.

Butcher, invigorated by the blood he was drawing, pressed his attack. He unleashed a barrage of strikes, each one aimed to cripple or kill. Kael, his vision blurring, felt himself weakening. The Berserk Form was devouring him from the inside out.

He let Butcher's next strike connect, the electric blades tearing through his shoulder. The pain was excruciating, but he used it. He used the pain to channel his rage, focusing it into a single, precise point. As Butcher recoiled, expecting victory, Kael grabbed his arm, the electrified blades burning into his flesh.

He ignored the agony and pulled, leveraging his own momentum against Butcher's. He forced the augmented warrior to stumble, off balance.

And then he struck. A series of rapid-fire blows, each aimed at the exposed nerve clusters in Butcher's neck. The points that controlled his mechanical limbs.

Butcher roared in pain and confusion as his movements stuttered, his blades faltering. Kael didn't give him time to recover. He leaped onto Butcher's back, wrapping his legs around his waist, and began to pound on the vulnerable areas of his head and neck.

Metal screeched and cracked. Sparks flew.

Butcher thrashed wildly, trying to dislodge Kael, but his movements were becoming sluggish, erratic. The blows to his nerve clusters were taking their toll.

Finally, with a sickening crunch, Butcher's augmented arm went limp, the electrified blade clattering to the ground. Kael redoubled his efforts, continuing his relentless assault until Butcher slumped forward, his metal body a smoking, sparking heap.

Silence descended upon the Crimson Cage. The crowd, stunned into disbelief, stared at the fallen champion and the bloodied, broken figure standing above him.

Kael stood there, swaying precariously, the Berserk Form slowly receding. The purple-white glow in his eyes faded, replaced by the dull ache of exhaustion and pain. The messages in his mind changed from urging him forward to warnings of imminent collapse.

[Berserk Form Deactivated]

[Severe internal injuries detected]

[Vitality critically low]

[Activating 'Survivor' passive for emergency stabilization]

He felt his knee give way, and he collapsed to the ground, the cold metal of the arena pressing against his cheek. The pain was overwhelming, a symphony of agony that threatened to consume him.

His **knee gave way**, and he **collapsed to the ground.**

The **arena spun**, his **vision fading.**

The last thing he heard…

Was the **deafening silence** of a crowd **too stunned to speak.**

Then, **blackness.**

Up in the **private spectator's box**, **Lord Valerius** sat perfectly still.

His **crimson eyes** gleamed with something dangerous. Something **intrigued**.

Beside him, **Krill** was slack-jawed.

**"Impossible…"** Krill muttered, gripping the edge of the railing. **"That was… that was Butcher. He—he wasn't supposed to lose."**

Valerius let the moment stretch, then finally… he smirked.

**"It seems I was wrong about him."**

Krill hesitated. **"Shall I finish him off, my lord? If we let this… thing grow stronger, we may regret it later."**

Valerius tapped his fingers against the polished armrest. **"No. Not yet."**

Krill blinked. **"My lord?"**

Valerius leaned forward, his eyes never leaving **Kael's unconscious form**.

**"He's something special, Krill. Something… different. And I want to know why."**

He **tilted his head**, as if considering a puzzle.

**"Bring him to the infirmary. Have his wounds treated."**

Krill stiffened. **"You want to keep him alive?"**

Valerius smiled. **"Of course."**

Then his expression darkened.

**"But only so I can see what he becomes next."**