Merciless floated once again in the Sea of Correspondence, a void of endless nothingness, stretching in all directions with no horizon, no light, no hope.
Darkness was so profound that it felt as though the abyss itself was lost within itself. Out of the seven sources of power he had encountered, six had been countered.
Five had questioned him, forcing him to confront his desires, sins, and ambitions, while one offered him soul fragments to devour, and in there he found a small soul fragment that belonged to his old self.
Yet, one final source awaited.
One more power.
And then he saw it.
Familiar.
Comforting, even in its grotesque, terrifying form.
The malformed heart, his Ichor, pulsating with a blood-red glow, veined with a crimson aura that seemed to twist reality around it. Tendrils writhed, eyeballs blinked, and the heart seemed to twitch in anticipation.
Darwinism, his unique power.
