Gershwin regarded that comment of bravery with spite. No word in the dictionary could describe just how foul of a mood she was in. Normal people are lucky that they can get used to the pain – that it dies down or they become tolerant of it and are hardy towards these sources of discomfort. 

No, Gershwin realized that even after a while of trying to acclimatize to the bright room, she did not habituate to it. In fact, it felt like the pain got [b]worse[/b]. Yet because of this pain, she grew stronger and faster. She could see properly into the room and all her surroundings as if it were normal. But the pain was unbearable. She wanted it to end. 

[right] ‘They will attack?’ she looked at Cody. [/right]

She walked up to one of the 20 motivators trapped in the light prisons. They were squeezing themselves tightly, trying to make themselves as small as possible. Hardened and heartless as they may be, the searing and burning on their clothes and skin, and their anguished faces betrayed their outer exterior and revealed their fragile little human bodies. 

[right] ‘You strapped me down onto the chair…’ a light whisper to the man. [/right] 

The light prisons were cylindrical with barely enough space to stand. Their periphery had tall cylindrical bars with almost no gap to fit an adult hand through. 

Yet Gershwin, pissed off as she is, casually reached into the prison. Her right hand and arm burnt into an irrecoverable crisp – and that crisp burnt off into dust until nothing remained. However, a phantasmal hand took its place, and it moved and flexed like it was her own. She gripped the man’s neck hard. The man screamed for only a brief second before a hard snap sounded. The man collapsed to the floor, his body incinerating and releasing a powerful pungent odour. 

[right] ‘You won’t kill them? [color=ed1c24]Then I will.[/color]’ [/right]

She eyed the next man who could only guess as to what happened to his comrade. She flexed her powerful fist, and punched a hole through the man’s chest. The torso was stuck into her arm, and Gershwin flung the lifeless body out of the light prison to release him. 

The Agents heard all this going on. At this rate, they’ll all be dead.

‘Gershwin. I need you to stop. Now!’ Agent Dioxide almost reprimanding her, like a misbehaving child with a power-saw in her hands.

[right] ‘And why should I?’ as she brought the heads of two men together, crushing them into a pulp. [/right] 

The motivators were screaming, trying to get out of their light prisons but unable to withstand the pain to pass through the beams. They were stuck, unable to leave, and unable to accept their fate. 

[right] ‘Should I stop, [color=ed1c24]Cody?[/color] Should I stop killing the people who for the past few days [color=ed1c24]have been slowly killing us?[/color] Hm? [/right]