The answer clearly amused Mark.
New limbs formed from the sphere. They were not veins this time, but segmented blades unfolding like insect wings, each edge vibrating hard enough to distort the air around them. They struck all at once.
Diane moved purely on instinct.
She spun, blocked, ducked, and slashed, but she was too slow. One blade tore through her shoulder, another ripped across her thigh, and a third slammed into her side with enough force to send her crashing to the floor.
Her scythe skidded from her hand and clattered several meters away.
Her body refused to move.
The sphere hovered above her, looming, its surface pulsing in rhythm with her ragged heartbeat.
"Stay down," it murmured. "Accept it, Diane. You are a failure, just like your mother always said when you failed to meet her expectations."
Diane stared at the ceiling, her breath uneven. Her vision dimmed at the edges, not black, but red, spreading inward like a flood. Something burned deep inside her, hotter than the pain, hotter than fear.
She no longer cared about her mother.
But Seamus...
The thought that she would fail again, that she would become a burden to him, that she would be useless when it mattered most, made her chest tighten.
Her fingers twitched. Blood seeped into the cracks of the floor beneath her palm.
She did not want to be stronger than everyone else. She did not want control or domination. She only wanted to prove that she was not weak.
Her body responded.
The pain in her bones surged, then twisted into something violent and unbearable. She felt them tearing apart, rebuilding her from the inside.
Diane screamed as Seamus rushed toward her in panic.
Bones burst from her body, forming layers of protection around her, wrapping her in something like living armor. Her ribs extended outward to shield her chest, while bones reinforced her arms and legs.
Bone Reaper grew larger, yet lighter in her grip. Red tissue wrapped around the blade, glowing as if alive.
The pain vanished, replaced by overwhelming power.
Diane stood there, stunned, her breath steady again as she stared at herself.
"I’m... evolving..."
Mark let out a quiet laugh, his tone filled with disappointment.
"Oh. It seems I underestimated you," he said. "What a shame. I can’t play with your mind anymore."
Mark didn’t retreat when he saw her change. The sphere pulsed like a heartbeat and the segmented blades rearranged themselves, folding back into the mass before reshaping again.
This time, dozens of needle-thin spikes erupted from its surface and fired at once like a storm.
Diane reacted without thinking, as if she already knew what she was able to do. The bones along her forearms spread outward, locking together into a curved shield just in time.
The spikes struck with deafening force, embedding into the bone barrier, cracking it, but failing to pierce through. The impact pushed her back several steps, boots scraping hard against the floor.
"Ah, so this is your evolution," Mark said calmly. "So ordinary just like you."
The floor beneath Diane suddenly split open. Bone-like tendrils shot upward from below, trying to wrap around her legs and pin her down.
"See? I can use my bones too just like you. So tell me, Diane. What makes you special?"
Diane decided not to engage in conversation and focused. Her evolution was indeed wasn’t something flashy or terrifying like Isolde, but this was enough for her.
She slammed the butt of Bone Reaper into the ground, and the bones in her calves shifted instantly. Sharp protrusions burst outward, severing the tendrils before they could tighten.
She leapt forward. Her back burned as bones pushed through her back, unfolding into rough, jagged wings. She twisted midair and hurled shards of bone from her wings like thrown knives.
The shards slammed into the sphere, sinking deep. For the first time, Mark reacted. The surface of the sphere rippled violently as the embedded bones tried to grow, spreading cracks through the mass.
"Hm. Annoying," he muttered as the eyes opened again.
A pressure hit her mind. Images flashed, voices layered over each other, fragments of her past clawing for attention.
Diane gritted her teeth and pushed forward anyway. The bones around her head thickened, forming a crude helm that dulled the assault just enough.
The sphere unleashed everything at once. Blades, spikes, wind pressure, compressed force that shattered the floor around her.
Diane felt bones break, reform, harden. Every injury forced her body to change again. Shields formed where she was struck. Spikes grew where she needed reach.
Her wings shortened, thickened, turned into stabilizers as she charged straight through the chaos.
Bone Reaper screamed in her hands, glowing brighter as red tissue wrapped tighter around the blade.
She jumped, higher than before, propelled by compressed bone erupting from her legs. Midair, she pulled her wings inward, focusing everything into one point.
"I don’t need to be special to defeat you, Mark," Diane said through clenched teeth. "I just need to believe in myself more and stop listening to your bullshit."
She swung her scythe, Bone Reaper cut deep, slicing straight through the sphere’s core this time.
The adaptive bones followed the blade, exploding outward, anchoring themselves inside Mark’s form before he could react.
The sphere convulsed violently. Cracks spread everywhere as the bones inside it expanded uncontrollably. The structure failed. The pressure collapsed inward, crushing itself under its own instability.
Mark screamed, not in pain, but in disbelief.
"This isn’t supposed to happen," his voice echoed as the sphere fractured. "You should have lost! Drowned by all the pain and suffering you’ve been through! All of you need to feel the pain that I feel!"
The sphere imploded. The mass fell apart in chunks, lifeless, collapsing onto the floor with a wet, heavy sound. The domain around them trembled, the walls pulsing weakly before starting to fade.
Diane landed on one knee, breathing hard, blood dripping down her armor, but she was still standing.
She looked at the remains of Mark Latros and tightened her grip on Bone Reaper.
"I... I did it. I can’t believe I did." Diane’s voice trembled, disbelief and exhaustion mixing together as her knees almost gave out.
For the first time in her life, the thought settled clearly in her chest.
She believed in herself.
---
Laughter echoed through the sterile room, sharp and mocking, bouncing off the white walls like it had nowhere else to go.
The man in the lab coat leaned back in his wheelchair, his body thin and weak, fingers twitching slightly as if even laughing cost him effort.
"Can you believe it?" he said between breaths, still amused. "They really think they defeated me."
He turned his head toward the woman strapped to the chair beside him.
Maria glared back, fury burning in her eyes despite the restraints digging into her wrists and shoulders.
"Let me go, you bastard," she spat, struggling hard enough to rattle the metal frame beneath her.