Vilgax shed skin

It was the same with his memory. These were the thoughts his psyche valued, the combat-fury, the destruction. They simmered to the top. All else sank into the dream. This had gone all wrong. He was forgetting too quickly. The stimulation Viral and Gura had inflicted on his brain had caused him to remember, but it overclocked his memory. He was never intended to recall all of these things at once. Now his forgetting only accumulated, discarding all useless information for the sake of his combat ability. How much had he already cast aside? More than other organic beings discovered in their lifetimes, infinite amounts of knowledge and culture, all fed on the pyre. Everything was going.

Karlaac.

Orgox.

Thucydex.

Vilgax.

What did those things mean to him?

Somehow, he couldn't recall.

Hmm.

Well, if he had forgotten, it couldn't have been that important anyway.

Vilgax, or the thing that had been Vilgax, stepped out. His greaves stepped in some blood or viscera from something he once knew the name of. There was a part of him that had been pushed away, buried and forgotten, but it wasn't important now. The deepest, truest part of him, his bloodlust, that remained. Perhaps this was his most evolved form. The one that discarded all his frailties. Arrogance, insecurity, simple emotion.

So the old man's curse had come true. But now that it was too late for a cure, he didn't much see the use for it, anyway. He felt the pull of a strong enemy, and he acted in accord with that basic instinct. He left. The final trace of Vilgax, the shed skin, was long behind him.

- Round 4