Through the lenses of his goggles, I saw the pain register … and then I saw his eyes change. The white of his eyes suddenly seemed to darken, turning to a vicious bloodred. Then he rushed me, pawing at the knives like an enraged bear. Not sophisticated movements, but so fast and strong that I lost one blade and had to do some fancy footwork to avoid him taking the other.

His whole body seemed to move at a different rate of speed. Faster, with much quicker reflexes.

I counterattacked with slashes that tore his combat gloves to ribbons. The manufacturers advertise those kind of gloves as being knife-proof. I beg to differ. Depends on the knife and the man using it. Did not stop him, though. If anything, he leveled up. Again.

Christ.

I moved in a rapid half circle, avoiding a series of incredibly quick and powerful swings, keeping an empty hallway behind me instead of a wall. Ghost was still fighting the second guy on the floor. The Kevlar was slowing the dog down, but that kind of armor is necessarily thinner around the throat, allowing for mobility. Thin protection means exactly jack squat against a big dog with titanium teeth. There was a lot of blood.

But no screams.

The man was still fighting Ghost, despite obvious serious and savage damage. And in a flash, I saw his eyes. The sclera had also turned a vivid, furious red.

What the actual fuck? Everything since I’d walked into Casanova’s cell felt like it belonged in The Twilight Zone.

He is coming.

The man I was fighting kept trying to grab my knife wrist instead of actually fighting me. It was freaky. He ripped off his goggles and tore off his balaclava as if it were all choking him. My knife had ripped him open from side to side, giving him a red smile like the Joker. Blood poured from it, splashing his clothes and the wall as he came at me with renewed vigor, red eyes blazing.

But as he attacked, he made a little series of yippy noises like a child so lost in a fit of rage he was unable to form words. It chilled me. I’ve never seen anyone lose their shit like this before. He was clearly a trained soldier—whether regular military or private contractor—and yet there was absolute madness in his actions. It made no sense at all, even with the severity of the injuries. It was so weirdly out of place that if this were a movie, it might have been comical. But there was nothing funny in real life. He slapped and pawed and bled as I tried to chop him down.

Even with all that, he was so goddamned fast.