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There were very few things that Azrael the Mad Dog truly feared in life. He had been specially bred for the purpose of being a fighter, and fear would inhibit him from becoming the strongest he could possibly be. Azrael challenged any and all opponents possible with enthusiasm and vigor, without even a hint of fear for the battle that was about to come. If anything, he welcomed it all with open arms.
He may not have feared the cryogenic prison, but Azrael would have rather been anywhere else on earth than inside that one room.
“KOKONOE!!” He roared, slamming his fists against the door. He could feel the metal starting to give under the force, but he knew he only had so much time before it didn’t matter. “You cat bitch! Let me out of this damn room before I let myself out and rip out your guts!!”
“Not gonna happen, big guy.” The woman’s voice was difficult to hear over the sound of ice crackling and hissing. The room was already frozen over, but even more ice and freezing wind was being pumped in to lower the temperature faster than he could have raised it.
He was already starting to run out of time. “You won’t keep me in here! Your stupid icebox can’t trap me forever!”
“Oh, just shut up and go back to sleep, Azrael.”
Letting out an infuriated roar, he went back to slamming his fists against the cold metal door. The only thing filling his thoughts were anger and hatred. That anger flooded his veins, keeping his body moving as he left dent after dent in the door.
“KOKONOE!”
He had just been doing what he was designed to do. They had wanted to create the ultimate fighter, and he was the result. So why was he being treated like a criminal for doing what he was made for?
Despite his repeated efforts, Azrael saw that his hands were shaking. His limbs were starting to go numb from the nearing-zero temperature, and he could see his breath in little clouds as he exhaled.
“Kokonoe…you can’t…do this…”
He tried to stumble forward and punch the door again, but the cold was making him feel tired. He knew that if he went to sleep, he wasn’t going to wake up anytime soon, if at all.
The cold continued to seep into his body. With all the punching he had been doing, he took in quick, sharp breaths, which only got rid of the warmth in his body quicker and replaced it with frigid air. Azrael could feel the ground underneath him sticking to the undersides of his boots. His fingers were turning blue and going stiff.
“No…”
Azrael was wrong.
He was afraid.
The Mad Dog merely stood in place as he felt the frost spider across his skin and the lingering warmth of his skin finally vanishing under the oppressive cold. His pulse slowed, heart gradually slowing more and more until the lack of circulation robbed his entire body of oxygen. By that point, the dark, heavy feeling of sleep felt like a mercy.