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Summary
“035,” You breathe out, sizing up the man in front of you. They don't exactly have training videos on dealing with Keter-class anomalies face to face. You watch as the viscous liquid from his mask drips and sizzles on his host-body's skin before smoking and leaving nothing but a black stain. “You're not decomposing.”
His glee is carved into his face. Literally. For The Lord of Anguish, he seems more than overjoyed. He holds up a vial, only half-filled. “Would you consider this half-full or half-empty, Doctor?”