I should run, but. . .

I smiled, opening the floodgates of my reserves, and let the power show. A dark mist clung to me, power made manifest, and I turned it inwards.

There were a dozen reasons to run.

There was one reason to fight.

Gradually, I had been changing. My demonic form had become different as my power developed and choices were made.

I had made this descision, with that very thought, once before. By a crystal tree, with a blackened dagger.

I had no dagger, I had only thought and memory, and a Will in me. My candleflame of resolve had become a torch, and so now I reached for something further.

There were many reasons to retreat.

There was one reason to advance.

My foretalon extended, scything to an imposing length, flat and more like the dagger that I'd lost. It burned cherry red, as did the tips of my silver hair and fur. The goat-like legs grew thicker in the thigh, the hooves taking on an obsidian sheen. My horns had a similar glassy appearance, and had grown longer and branched. I felt something shoot out by my ass and saw the tip of the thick tail.

I felt larger, stonger, but it wasn’t enough. I drew on my magic, heedless of my limit; as long as I had a drop left I could recover.

Strength or weakness.

Good or evil.

Genius or idiocy.

Glory or despair.

It would all be decided by a single word.

I roared as pain assailed me, as if every inch if me was being stabbed and torn. Everything clenched and spasmed, contracted and quivered.

I took that pain, and the fury that came with it, and poured it all into a single image. My body broke apart in a burst of dark flame, and then reformed in the passing of an instant.

The cheery red of my claws passed to white, and lightning arced between them. The black veins that had marked my ashen skin now consumed it, leaving me dark save for the fire-marked white. Dark, save for the glowing coal in the center of my chest.

My tail, black tipped and covered in silver fur, had a split tip and dripped with a fragrant tar-black liquid. And upon my shoulders a second pair of arms, ten talons burning white.

Lochra slammed her arms on the ground, that golden cloud gathering around her. I lashed out with my tail, spewing an arc of cum towards her.

I could feel my hunger building with every second, and I doubted I had much more a minute before I'd burn out.

Less, with every use of power.

It would have to be enough.