The man's eyes flashed with excitement as he lunged at Progress, his fangs bared and his claws extended. Progress, who met the attack with a swift swipe of his own claws. The two clashed, their movements lightning-fast as they exchanged blows.
Progress's enhanced senses allowed him to anticipate the man's attacks, and he countered with precision. His claws raked across the man's chest, leaving deep gashes in his clothing and skin. The man retaliated with a powerful kick, but Progress dodged it easily, his agility heightened by his transformation.
The fight raged on, the two combatants exchanging blows and dodging attacks. Progress's green eyes glowed brightly in the darkness, and his wolf-like form seemed to be fueled by a primal energy. The man, despite his supernatural abilities, seemed to be struggling to keep up with Progress's speed and agility.
As the battle intensified, Progress's thoughts became more instinctual, driven by a primal urge to protect himself and those he cared about. He didn't know what the man wanted, but he was determined to put an end to the attack.
With a powerful roar, Progress launched himself at the man, pinning him to the ground. The man's eyes widened in surprise, and he struggled to break free. But Progress's grip was unyielding, his claws digging deep into the man's shoulders.
The man let out a pained hiss, and his body began to struggle less. Progress's chest heaved with exertion, still tense and ready to strike. He growled softly, his green eyes fixed intently on the man beneath him..
Despite Progress's initial advantage, the man's experience and skill soon began to pay off. He used his knowledge of combat to exploit Progress's inexperience, targeting his weaknesses and wearing him down. Progress's was matted with dirt and sweat, and his breathing grew labored as the man landed a series of precise blows.
The man's eyes gleamed with a calculating intensity, his movements economical and effective. He pinned Progress to the ground, his claws digging deep into Progress's shoulders. Progress let out a pained yelp, his green eyes flashing with anger and frustration.
The man's grip was like a vice, crushing Progress's windpipe. Progress's vision began to blur, and his body went limp. The man's eyes seemed to bore into Progress's soul, his gaze cold and calculating.
"You may have power," the man growled, "but you lack control. You're a beast, barely contained." The man's words were laced with contempt, and Progress felt a surge of anger and humiliation.
As the man's grip tightened, Progress's world began to fade to black. He knew he was in grave danger, and his only hope was to tap into his inner reserves of strength and determination. But for now, he was at the mercy of his more experienced foe.
But, just as things looked bad fir the young wolf. A sound of heels clicking on the empty streets is heard. At that moment, Progress's and the Attackers hearts both felt the pressue from the bloodlust that was being released by who or whatever was hading their way. The sound of heels clicking grew louder, and the air seemed to vibrate with an intense, almost palpable energy. Progress's and the man's hearts both felt the weight of the approaching presence, their bloodlust-fueled senses on high alert.
The man's smile faltered, replaced by a mix of fear and anticipation. "So, it's true," he whispered, his voice trembling. "You're here after all!!." His eyes locked onto something behind Progress, and a manic grin spread across his face.
"I, Marcus Rally, challenge you to a battle to the death!" he shouted, his voice echoing through the empty streets. "Now, do you acce—"
But before Marcus could finish his declaration, a swift and silent strike ended his life. His head seemed to hover in mid-air, floating above his body, as a crimson spray erupted from his neck. Progress's eyes widened in horror as he watched the gruesome scene unfold.
The last thing Progress saw was Marcus's headless body crumpling to the ground, his own vision fading to black as the sound of heels grew closer, and the darkness closed in around him.....when his's eyes fluttered open, he was met with the familiar sight of his bedroom. He was lying in his bed, surrounded by the comforting darkness of the night. But as he sat up, a wave of confusion washed over him. How did he get there? The last thing he remembered was the fight with the man, Marcus Rally, and...and...
A chill ran down his spine as he recalled the man's head being severed, and his body crumpling to the ground. Who had saved him? Progress's mind was a jumble of questions and fragmented memories.
He threw off the covers and swung his legs over the side of the bed, his feet dangling in the air. His head spun, and he felt a wave of dizziness wash over him. He rubbed his temples, trying to clear the fog from his mind.
As he looked around the room, he noticed that everything seemed untouched. His books were still stacked on the nightstand, and his clothes were still scattered on the floor. It was as if he had simply gone to bed and slept through the night.
But Progress knew that wasn't true. He had been in a fight. He had been attacked. And someone had saved him.
A shiver ran down his spine as he thought about the sound of heels clicking on the pavement. Who was it that had saved him? And what did they want from him?
Progress's thoughts were interrupted by a wave of exhaustion. He lay back down, feeling the weight of his unanswered questions. He knew he had to get out of bed, to start searching for answers. But for now, he just closed his eyes and let the darkness wash over him.
"What just happened?" Progress repeated, his voice barely above a whisper. He stared at the ceiling, trying to piece together the events that had led him to his bed.
He thought back to the fight with Marcus Rally, the man with the black eyes and sharp fangs. He remembered the feeling of fear and adrenaline as they clashed. And then...the man's head had been severed. Progress's mind recoiled at the memory.
But who had saved him? And how had he ended up in his bed? Progress didn't remember coming home or going to bed. It was as if he had been transported there, but that was impossible.
Progress's thoughts swirled with questions and doubts. He needed answers, but he didn't know where to start looking. He threw off the covers again, determination etched on his face.
This time, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up, his feet touching the cool floor. He took a deep breath, trying to shake off the lingering dizziness. He had to find out what had happened, and who had saved him.
With newfound resolve, Progress began to make his way to the bathroom, hoping a shower would clear his head and help him think more clearly.