[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/qdJ8I7l.jpg[/img][/center]
[h2][center][color=red]Christopher Drake Francis[/color][/center][/h2]

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[color=silver]𝕄𝕠𝕟: 𝕆𝕔𝕥. 𝟙𝟚, 𝟚𝟘𝟚𝟘   / /   𝕌𝕊𝔸ℝ𝕀𝕃ℕ 𝔼𝕒𝕤𝕥   / /  𝔾𝕣𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕕 ℤ𝕖𝕣𝕠  / /   𝟚𝟙𝟘𝟘[/color][/center][hr]

With Chris already having transformed today, he was unable to test the powers of his fully monstrous self for the rest of the day. That didn't matter, he still held some power in his natural state, and now was the time to fully make use of it. After his, rather bitter talk with Zoe, he had headed back to the center of his destruction. His eyes viewed the scenery of destruction and gore. Burned corpses, blood, and debris littered the streets that he had rampaged earlier today. It brought back unpleasant memories, the flames and collapsing buildings from the monster that destroyed his village, the monster that took everything from him. The creature's form was vague, he never saw the details, nor did he know what was that beast's fate after that disaster. What he did know, however, was that pain. The despair of having everything he had once known and love pulled away from him and dragged into the abyss. 

What did Zoe know? What did Angelique know? What did [i]any of them[/i] know whats that like? Before he had always assumed that they understood what it was like. Even Angelique, who had the unfortunate fate of murdering her fans, even that couldn't compare to the pain he felt. The fear, the Anger. None of them could ever understand. 

Her words echoed in his tormented mind. [center]
[color=palevioletred][i]
you're not intimidating, 
you're not mature, 
you're not some put-upon martyr. 
What you are is an overgrown baby; a spineless little bitch who can't control his temper-tantrums.
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What did she know? What did she damn well know? Was he supposed to be intimidating? Was he supposed to be mature?! What did that matter here? A martyr? None of them were damned [i]martyrs[/i]. They were all cursed, damned by the universe. Who gives a [i]shit[/i] about any of that nonsense when the world around them is crumbling. She didn't know, none of them could know, could comprehend, that. To lose, everything. Family, friends, the neighborhood you grew up with, the smiles you used to see. They couldn't fathom his pain. He was sure of it now. They have yet to see the true hell of this world, only glimpses and pieces of the despair the universe was filled with. 
Well, they could all go to hell. Chris didn't want to care. Zoe could fuck off for all he could give a shit about. Zoe, Brent, Marcus, they could all be in there trivial friend circles, laugh, and pretend that nothing is wrong. That this is just some school and they were all going to be taken care of. He didn't need any of that bullshit.

An arm clad with scales swung at a cement wall, gouging it. The more he dwelled on that conversation, and his own despair, the angrier his output became. His view became clouded in firey judgement. Forcing himself to cease his inner rants, he focused on training. He [i]needed[/i] to become stronger. Strong enough so that no one else has to die. Both the monsters and the amigos will pay in full for what they have done. There was no room for pointless attachments that would just get in his way, that would hurt him once they leave him. He will show everyone, this damned universe that has spitted on him included, that he will rise above it all.

Determination and rage fueled his endeavors. He tested the strength of his armor on cement debris from his previous rampage. He tested his breathe on the walls and floor. Eventually he moved on to the denizens of GZ itself. He swung the back of his armored hand, as hard as he could, at the first pedestrian he could. In his natural form, the desire of destruction was suppressed and could not by itself shake away his morality. Fortunately for him, they weren't real people. Murdering them didn't matter, he knew this, and this thought dismissed the empathy and guilt he felt as he curb stomped the head of the man he knocked down. He drew flames on a crowd of people, punched and kicked at individuals, murdering to practice the lethality of his non-transformed abilities. Passing a metal bar, he melted its ends off with his breath and wielded the iron piece as a sort of weapon. The tips were sharp after they hardened, and he continued his bloodshed by swinging and stabbing the ground zero civilians. 

The more he killed, the further that suppressed primordial rage sneaked into his human mind. His anger, his hatred, was first targeted towards the monsters and the amigos. That ire however eventually spread into some of his allies that have brought his anger. Zoe, Marcus, Brent, he occasionally saw there faces on a few he killed. At first he smiled. Not a half-assed smile, not a little curl of the lips. His instinctual vengeance and triggered a morbid cathartic pleasure. It took him a few minutes to fully become aware of his waning sanity, and he forced himself to stop. The result this time, which naturally was of no scale to his dragon form's, still had a moderate trail of murder and destruction. He willed himself away from smiling, and contemplating his actions. Since he was exhausted from his 'exercise', it was relatively easy to tone down that instinct. That desire for blood and vengeance. He tossed away his makeshift weapon and sat down with a sigh. 

[color=red][i]Have I become what I hated?[/i][/color]