It was angry. It was so, so angry. Its hands clenched into fists, the claws drawing blood every time they met its palms. Liquid black dripped down into the fathomless depths of the mind it shared – no, owned.
Opening its mouth, it let out a warning hiss again. It was prepared to give the not-black a chance to run before tearing it into pieces. It may have been a bottomless pit of evil that fought dirty and had no honor code, but it wasn't an asshole.
The not-black didn't move. So it lunged.
The ensuing fight wasn't so much of a battle as it was a brawl. One moment it had the not-black in its sights, staring blankly at it with that ever-present calm look, and the next its face was being crushed into the ground. Shocked beyond belief, it tried to leap up and attack the not-black, but its head was being firmly held to the ground by the not-black's hand and its hands were pinned behind its back by the not-black's foot.
Rage and embarrassment exploded in its brain. It howled viciously, bucking and struggling wildly under the painful grip. It wanted to be let go, be released, let me GO I will KILL YOU so LET me GO!
But it was not released. It screamed and spat, tearing at the ground-shadows with its teeth. The not-white was too fast, moved to fast, was too strong to be a part of Jak! How? How?! Not possible, not right!
That same feeling as before – tingling, strange, making its chest hurt – filled its body, centered in his hands. The not-black was healing it again, healing the tiny gouges its nails had left in its palms.
It. Was. Healing. It. In. Battle.
It unleashed with a horrible cry, blasting the not-black off its back with a sudden explosion of dark purple lightning strikes. Whether or not the not-black had been expecting it didn't matter; the not-black was gone, and it could attack again. Which is exactly what it did.
This time, the not-black let it charge, caught its hand and extended claws when it reached, and suddenly the two were involved in an all-out fistfight. It felt some tension being eased from its mind. It had the upper hand again. Things would be good. It would kill the not-black and reclaim this mind as its own.
It failed to notice that the not-black was totally on the defensive, and so when the not-black struck, it was again shocked into silence.
Within a matter of seconds, it went from pummeling the armored arms of the not-black to staring into the blank blackness of the mind. Again it had been shoved to the nonexistent ground and was being pinned there by the not-black.
For a few moments, it stayed silent, wondering why it wasn't being run through by something, why its chest wasn't filled with the searing pain it experienced when a bullet it hit during its exploits while controlling Jak's body. There was nothing there except the pressure coming from the not-black's weight and from its own startled anger.
It stayed silent.
And then it screamed.
Once again it thrashed and flailed, trying to free itself from the not-black. When that didn't work, it tried to force the not-black off with blasts of purple-black lightning, but that didn't work either. It put all its strength into trying to get out from under the not-black.
It failed.
Eternities of minutes passed before it finally gave up and stopped howling, screeching, struggling and twisting. It lay on the solid shadows, breathing heavily, glaring at the not-black with its black and pupil-less eyes. The not-black gave it the same look, only less angry and not black.
The not-black waited until there was assurance that it would not try to rip the not-black apart should the not-black let go, whereupon it found itself released. Exhaustion had gripped it so heavily that it couldn't have moved if it wanted to. It settled for hissing as often as it could between breaths in an attempt to frighten off the not-black.
It saw the not-black approaching it, stepping over it to kneel next to its head. It hissed loudly, showing its sharp and pointed teeth that so often ripped into flimsy skin and let loose the blood that so desperately wanted freedom. The not-black ignored it and touched its hand again, repeating the damned healing process all over again.
With its hisses declining in volume and frequency, it felt yet another new feeling. Sharp and painful, the feeling gripped his chest and tightened it to the point where it thought that its heart was going to be crushed. It choked and coughed as its breath caught in its throat over and over again.
Something was wrong. Something was wrong.
The not-black suddenly touched its forehead, and it froze. It didn't have the energy to snap at the hand, nor did it have the energy to hiss and snarl wildly. Its chest tightened and crushed and hurt and pain hurt, so much pain hurt.
Then it did something it had never done before.
A soft, high-pitched scream filled the air, and quickly fell to a deafening whine. The not-black gave it a Look, one that it couldn't decipher. It whined again, purely out of fear and pain and this new feeling.
Out out OUT OUT out out OUT out OUT out OUT out out OUT OUT OUT
A haze the color of the not-black filled its vision, and it screeched again, only far more broken and terrified this time. Everything wasn't black and it wasn't right nothing was black the not-black did this kill kill kill out now kill kill hurt pain run run out out OUT OUT OUT
When it blinked and found that the mind was black and shadows again, the not-black had gone.