His instinct was to reject the pain, to expel the foreign energy that threatened to tear him apart. But Azrael's will was absolute. I clamped down, overriding the body's every defence mechanism, forcing it to accept the torment.
"Burn," I hissed through gritted teeth, sweat pouring down my face, mingling with the blood that now trickled from my nose. "Burn away the weakness. Burn away the remnants of your pathetic life."
The pain intensified, a thousandfold. It felt as though every cell in my body was being torn apart and reassembled, not once, but repeatedly, in a cycle of unending torment. My bones vibrated, feeling as if they were dissolving into dust, then fusing back together, stronger, denser, imbued with a cold, dark resonance. This was the bone marrow purification—the true essenc
