˗ˏˋ ★ˎˊ˗

As you finally corner Griefer, he holds the Venomshank high, its green aura pulsing with power. His signature smirk falters for the first time.

"Y0U D0N'T UND35T4ND!" he shouts, gripping it tightly. "1 W4S M34NT T0 W13ELD 1T!!11!"

But something in you knows better. The voices—the same ones Griefer heard—whisper their truth to you now. The Venomshank calls for something more... something stronger.

You lunge.

In the chaos, you rip the sword from his grasp. The moment your fingers tighten around the hilt, a searing pain shoots through your veins. Your vision blurs, your body stiffens, and an overwhelming surge of pure, toxic energy floods every cell in your body.

Griefer stumbles back, eyes wide. "W41t—N0! TH4AT W4S SUPP0S3D T0 B3 ME3!"

But it's too late. Your limbs contort, twisting into vines laced with venom. Your skin hardens, turning into rough, bark-like plating. A deep, guttural roar escapes your throat as spiked thorns burst from your arms. The voices—the ones that whispered before—now command you.