"Well, there's no need to hold back, these bastards want to kill me," Nikolai muttered to himself while each part of his body bulged, pulsed and transformed.
Black fur spread across his arms, then spread further, his face becoming ferocious like a twisted eldritch wolf and yet remaining somewhat pleasant to the eye.
His shirt stretched and tore in different places, unable to withstand the sheer mass of Nikolai's muscles, but his pants remained intact, although he didn't like them tight, so he ripped them off.
His height in this form could reach eight feet when standing tall, but he hunched slightly, letting his thighs tighten and bulge, ready to pounce as he placed both hands on the cold metal floor. "I'm going." He told Sasha in a low, gruff voice.
Between them and the enemy was a pool of filth at least five metres wide.
