"[b]Hehehe...[/b]" [i]Fenrir's shoulders slumped over, his head hanging low. They bounced, as he continued to chuckle. The slag shots hit, ripping through his chest, his lunge, his heart, tearing out the back of his armor. He was, by all rights and means, a dead man. But then...why...?[/i] "[b]Hehehehe....[/b]" [i]Why did he still laugh?[/i] "[b]Hehehehehe...[/b]" [i]Why did he chuckle and laugh as thou this were some garish joke.[/i] "[b]Pain? Hehehe. This isn't pain.[/b]" [i]He bled profusely, but fire beamed out of both sides. Yet this fire wasn't of Fenrir's normal blue flames. This fire was red. Fenrir would not look up at the man.[/i] "[b]Pain is relative, when one has suffered with the absence of one's God. You know yourself that there is no pain to compare to that.[/b]" [i]Fenrir stabbed the ground with Ragnärok, the earth cracking as the ancient blade slid into it. There was no heat coming from the Wolf now.[/i] "[b]You wish to burn things with cold fire? Fine. Let us see who freezes first.[/b]" [i]The cracks in the earth began to spread as the blade broke apart the complex compounds to absorb the heat of the chemical bonds. Nearest to him, the earth began to disintegrate. He looked up to the Betrayed Soldier, and his eyes blazed Crimson.[/i] "[b]So, from one monster to another,[/b]" [i]His eyes seemed to bore into the very soul that stood in front of him, the madness of a broken man emanating from the Crimson blaze.[/i] "[b]which level of Hell did you make it to?[/b]"