Goliath's Restoration- Part 3

Goliath finds out who's behind his artistic reimagining, and he's starting to like what he sees- and maybe wants even more. Enjoy, all!

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Another night, and Goliath awoke bigger and stronger- it had been nearly a week of constant renovations, and with each night, Goliath had more and more added to his body. The rest of the Manhattan clan were left with questions and worry about their leader's transformation- but Goliath was beginning to feel different about the situation. For his entire existence, which now stretched for over a thousand years, he had been a complete stoic- a model of restraint and dignity. When was the last time he had let go? Right now, he had the temptation to do so- the power he could feel packed into his form was tantalizing. How his wings kept him aloft was a mystery to him at this point- Xanatos had in the past called him the world's strongest warrior, and now, he certainly felt like it.

Every part of him had been changed- his head was crowned with horns, and his face had been made stronger, more bestial- more monstrous, some would say. But was it so bad to be a monster? The strength pulsing in his veins, powering arms with biceps like boulders and triceps like anvils, filling out the mountain range along his shoulders, swelling his canyon of a chest. He growled with every breath, the floor shook with every step, his legs as well billowed out into earth-shaking pillars. It was intoxicating- and he felt himself smile when he pumped up his arms and watched his scales stretch across his mountain of a body.

But Goliath was no fool; he didn't like that, however this was happening, it was out of his control. So he perked up considerably when Lexington reported they had found the restoration artist responsible for the work done on him. Goliath traveled to his studio, tearing through the brick wall like it was made out of paper; he was no one special. A popular artist, but no sort of mage or enemy of his clan- then he saw who commissioned the restoration work.

"You were hired by Owen Burnett?" Goliath asked of the artist, hoisting him up in one hand like he were nothing.

"Th-that's the name, yeah," the artist gulped, still reeling by being manhandled by the sculpture he had spent a week working on.

The gargoyle rumbled deeply. Puck. Somehow, he was the architect of this mischief- and Goliath was already planning to show his "appreciation." But first, he turned back to the artist. "You will do this work one last time- but you will be taking your instructions from me from now on."