I will return

90

I felt the hit of power as soon as I opened my eyes. The Daemon Ritus, closing after absorbing all those souls, shone with an infernal intensity in my chest, burning as if it were on fire. It wasn't like other times; This time, my entire being was consumed by a fire so powerful that it made every part of me vibrate with electricity. I could see small rays bursting from my skin, charging the environment with an energy I had never felt before. It was as if every atom in my body was being forced to contain something that surpassed any limit.

The burning was unbearable, but also addictive. I could feel the weight of the Daemon Ritus intensifying with every second, sinking little by little into my chest. My fur and skin seemed to react magically, opening and merging with the artifact as it embedded itself in my being. That golden device, with its inexhaustible power, was becoming part of me. The surge of energy was so dense that at times he felt as if he were floating in an abyss of pure force.

Millions of souls began to flow inside me, each one like an echo that fed my longings. Among them, that of my dear uncle Scooby, who, even when devoured by this energy, managed to scream "Noooo!" which resonated like a last vestige of his weakness. He was just another ingredient in this mix of absolute power.

Feeling the last soul entering me, I closed my eyes, and light exploded behind my eyelids. It was an incandescent energy, a blinding pressure that, when I opened my eyes, exploded like rays from my gaze. When the light disappeared, I looked down at my chest, surprised to see the Daemon Ritus sunk into my skin, as if it were now a part of my essence, shrinking in size as it merged with me.

Even without transforming, I could feel that my body was not enough to retain the power in its entirety. The puppy form was beginning to give way; I felt like something deep and wild was seeking to free itself. Finally, the Daemon Ritus disappeared inside me, sealing itself inside me. I knew the best was about to begin.

"Perfect," I said, savoring every syllable.