Page 24 of Swamp Kings 2

“He’s ready,” Lesion announced quietly.

“Hold on,” Seer said walking up behind him.

Bishop’s breath left him when his hand rested on the top of his head. He closed his eyes, his breath shaking as he agreed with every word Seer silently prayed, trusting they were all the right ones. More importantly they were coming from the right man.

“Thank you,” Bishop whispered when his hand lifted.

“Always got your back, brother,” he murmured as Nitro moved behind him.

He set his hands on his shoulders. “You ready, my Eveque?”

Bishop gripped the arms of the chair. “Let’s do it.”

The weight of the moment pressed in on the air around him as Nitro placed a hand on the left of Bishop’s head. “You’re my first with the new venom blades,” he said, his breath at his neck.

Bishop closed his eyes and dug every finger into the chair as the bats flew erratically, sensing the coming change.

Nitro’s fangs struck the side of his neck, a sharp, precise pain that deepened as it spread. The wildfire raced through his body, forcing his fingers into fists as it spread faster, igniting everything in its path—his nerves, his muscles, his mind.

Bishop’s heart hammered against his ribcage, fighting not to fight it. The ropes held him in place, keeping him grounded, as wave after wave of heat and cold collided inside him. Nitro’s fangs remained deep as the venom did its work. The pain drilled in, stealing the time from every second as his vision blurred and snapped into focus in waves. He clenched his eyes tighter as the venom tore through him, chewing up old wiring in his brain and covering his cells with its saliva. Spasms gripped his muscles as the power within him built, pushing against his blood and bones. He fought to breathe around the fire, each inhale burning his lungs, demandingair faster than he could get it.

The promise of death crawled along his skin, tightening like a vice around his heart as his fangs twisted and pushed deeper with Nitro’s hungry growl, the sheer intensity dragging a strained seethe from Bishop’s throat. His body raced to adapt, but the change was happening too fast. Nitro removed his fangs, his growling breaths an echo in his head, mixing with his own as the cellular slaughter continued, turning seconds into eternity and every breath into hell.

“How long?” The Seer’s tense words ricocheted in his skull like a gunshot as his muscles shook harder, his pulse carrying the venom deeper, bringing thunderous growls in his chest. His brain seemed to break loose within his skull, calculations, ideas, equations, measures, all flooding out like a machine gone rogue. The edges of his mind expanded as his body strengthened, adapting to the power being forced into him. The rope around his shins and upper body became jaws as his muscles swelled, blood pushing like a tsunami in his veins.

Raw power fought to break him free and soar him through the universe, every nerve burning, every pulse hammering, slamming against his chest, demanding he shatter or become something else. Bishop roared then thrashed, clawing for that edge of no return, anything to escape the hellconsuming him. His mind clawed to get away from the venom as it dragged something massive out of him. The bats screamed with the madness, flying into the shack walls and windows as he continued to fill the room with roars, pushing every ounce of breath into each one.

“What the hell is happening?” Seer yelled.

Bishop’s eyes suddenly rolled into his skull till it felt like they’d rip from their sockets. They snapped back and opened wide with a clarity so sharp it hurt his brain. He shot his gaze to the jack-o’-lanterns, no longer just lights but equations where every flicker and shadow fell exactly as he predicted. He angled his head, listening to the bats outside, their wing flaps transforming into a rhythm, then a pattern in his mind.

Holy fuck.

He tensed his arms and the resistance in the rope cast a formula across his eyes. With a sharp inhale, he surged forward, snapping the ropes like thread, the pressure in his muscles releasing all at once, leaving him gasping and trembling, but alive—so fucking alive.

“Holymother nature,” Lesion whispered.

“Bishop,” Seer called, the loud sound nearly giving him a seizure right as he found the switch to adapt to his new hearing.

He sat still for a second, testing the boundaries of what was new within him. His blood surged like a flooded river, thick with fury. He wasn’t just stronger—he was a storm of algorithms with the power and speed of a bolt of fucking lightning.

“Brother?” Seer called with a low caution.

Bishop flexed his hands, every tendon moving with precision. His heart still thundered in his chest, but it no longer felt out of control. It felt right. His mind buzzed with calculations, spinning faster than he could catch them, but somehow, it still made sense in the same way he knew how it made sense. He’d adapted. Within thirty seconds. Nineteen point four seconds, to be exact.

Nitro’s voice drifted from the edge of the room. “Look at that,” he said, a grin in every word. “You wore my bat buddies out already.”

Bishop’s gaze flicked toward Nitro, catching the predatory gleam in his mismatched eyes, the glow of his new fangs in the firelight. Bishop took a slow breath, steadying himself. His mind was still racing, still buzzing with possibilities as the transformation finished taking root.

Power stretched within him like a beast waiting to be unleashed. But it wasn’t wild—it was controlled, calculated. Maybe even patient. But on a timer.

Seer’s hand settled on his shoulder, the feeling instantly grounding him. He closed his eyes, the steady weight of his brother’s presence cutting through the buzz in his mind.

“You good, brother?” Seer asked, his voice low and calm.

Bishop nodded, exhaling slowly. “Yeah.”

He flexed his fingers again, marveling at the newfound precision in every movement. “Feels… different.”

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