I feel like I'm standing, I feel like I'm standing, but I don't want to open my eyes.
By the smell, I can recognize the place.
I immerse myself in the aromas that fill my office, a comforting amalgam of woody notes from the books on the shelves, the faint hum of the typewriter resting on my desk, and the subtle freshness of aromatic herbs scattered around the room.
Then, I understand what's happening.
My heart beats, beats with anger, an anger fueled by the need for justice, for retribution. It doesn't matter if I have the power to go back and save those who once perished, because just remembering what they did is enough for me.
I won't forgive anyone.
I clench my fists, feeling every cell in my body clamoring for revenge, a flame that burns relentlessly, fueled by injustice. All I must do is move forward.
At this moment, the power granted to me allows it.
When I finally decide to open my eyes, I do so with the certainty that I am in my sanctuary, my refuge in this illusory world. I gaze with satisfaction at the details of my office, meticulously restored to some random day in time.
Although I don't know the exact date, it doesn't matter right now.
What matters is moving forward.
I'm about to turn around when the movement of my chair, which had been facing away, catches my attention. My survival instinct kicks in immediately, and I frantically search for my gun. However, before I can reach it, my gaze meets hers.
"We meet again. It's been a while," Pandora greets me, raising her hand and flashing a smile that freezes my blood. "Did you miss me?"
Surprise paralyzes me for a moment as I observe the void stretching beyond the windows. My hands tremble, recognizing the relentless reality of this fictitious world. I inhale deeply, but my mind struggles to comprehend the purpose of her presence.
I clench my fists tightly, but my expression fades as she pulls out my own gun; the gun I thought I had tucked under my belt. I watch cautiously as she caresses its finish before aiming it directly at me.
What does she intend now?
"You've done a good job," she smiles, her piercing eyes locked onto mine with intensity. "It's an easy-to-use weapon, quite well made."
My fingers tense involuntarily at her apparent calmness. The pressure of the moment becomes palpable as Pandora's finger hovers over the trigger, and before I can react, the thunderous sound of the shot reverberates in the room, breaking the silence with an ominous echo.
"Bang!"
A momentary dizziness shakes me, as if something pierced my skull and destabilized my balance. Yet, as I regain composure and survey my surroundings, I find no trace of any injury.
There's no blood, no pain; simply put, nothing has happened. My gaze meets Pandora's, and she shows not the slightest change in her impassive expression.
"With that act, you've forfeited a life, a valuable life," she winks, defiantly, prompting a wave of reflection in my mind.
A valuable life? What does she mean by that?
"I thought you'd be more cautious," she puts her hand to her head, in a gesture of disapproval. "He told me things about your life, thought it would be fair if I did, but maybe I was wrong."
The weight of her words looms over me, and my mind struggles to process the complexity of the moment. Meanwhile, Pandora rises with indifferent grace, while I wrestle in a sea of tumultuous thoughts.
"Why should I live cautiously when I can reset?" My voice resonates with a hint of defiance as I extend my arms, confronting her with determination. "All I have to do is reset, do it until everything goes the way I want it to go."
But my words fail to conceal the uncomfortable truth that roots itself in my consciousness. I was foolish not to blindly trust in my ability to reset, without considering that using it is the best path to take.
"It doesn't hurt me; I can end my life with a single shot." An ironic smile curves on my lips as I visualize the myriad possibilities unfolding before me. "I'll be stronger, I can reset as many times as I want."
But confidence in my own abilities isn't enough to dispel the shadow of uncertainty that hangs over me. Pandora approaches with steady steps, her smile persistent like an unsolved enigma.
"I can be stronger than anyone, I can know everything," I clench my hands with determination, acknowledging the power that lies within my reach. "I can learn absolutely every skill, as far as my mind can reach."
The revelation of my true potential resonates in the charged air of the office, as my thoughts swirl in a frenzy of possibilities. With this power, I don't need to rely on meticulous planning. I just have to reset, over and over again, no matter how long it takes.
All that matters is fulfilling my goals. But as the words echo in my mind, a sense of emptiness grips me.
I thought reality would distort, that I would see everyone as mere pawns in a senseless game. However, wasn't it like this from the beginning?
"From the first death, I knew it, everything around me is false," I affirm, looking her in the eyes as she stops dead in her tracks, and I continue with a lump in my throat. "I don't care who's in front of me, if it's not the same person I had in a previous loop, whatever. There's no point clinging to the past, I just have to focus on the present I'm living."
"Betty just wants to see you happy," her voice whispers in my memory, an echo of tenderness and love those fades into the mist of pain and vengeance.
Beatrice's words resonate in my mind like a distant echo, a painful reminder of what once was and will never be again.
I'm sorry, Beatrice, but to be happy I must first avenge you, even if you're alive in this reality, I'll avenge you.
The touch of Pandora's hand on my shoulder abruptly brings me back to reality, her gaze locked onto mine as I grasp her arm in desperation.
"Get me out of here, I have so many things to…" my order is cut off by her relentless response.
"You have two left." Her voice, firm and clear, pierces my conscience like a dagger.
The way she pronounces those words triggers a series of memories in my mind, fleeting images of lost battles and repeated deaths, including the death with Ley. Those moments of agony and despair come to life once again, unleashing a storm of emotions within me.
My hands start to shake as my eyes search for answers in Pandora's impassive face. My heart beats so forcefully I feel like it's going to burst out of my chest, a mix of fear, anger, and determination threatening to consume me.
"Two lives?" My voice barely a whisper, but the silence that follows is deafening. Pandora continues to smile, like a porcelain doll, unperturbed by the chaos consuming me.
My legs give way for a moment under the overwhelming magnitude of the revelation, but I force myself to quickly regain composure. She continues to smile serenely, while I can barely stand.
"Why?!" I grasp her shoulders firmly, but her impassive face reflects no hint of surprise. "It was the only thing I had! Me! ME!"
The knot in my throat tightens as anxiety consumes me, causing my breath to become ragged and sweat to bead on my forehead. I know exactly what this feeling is; I've felt it long before coming to this unreal world.
"Why did you take it from me?!" I shout with hatred, but she remains silent, unmoved by my fury.
The fear of death looms over me like an ominous shadow, reminding me of the fragility of my existence. With a push of desperation, I try to shake her indifference, but she simply steps back without saying a word. With my heart pounding in my chest, I turn away while nervously biting one of my nails.
If I only have two lives left, how will I face what lies ahead? The prospect of having only one more attempt before facing my final destiny overwhelms me, leaving me breathless.
I try to calm my nerves by moving my hands frantically, but uncertainty swirls around me, threatening to drown me in a sea of despair. Every step I take feels like an eternity, and the room seems to stretch out infinitely before me.
Memories flood my mind, filling it with the presence of those I've lost.
"I had decided, I had decided." My voice breaks as my eyes frantically scan the place that was once a haven.
"I think it would be nicer if we decorated it with books, indeed," Beatrice's voice resonates in my mind, reminding me of shared moments and the warmth of her presence.
I can see her clearly, moving gracefully as she decorated the office with her magic, making the books dance on the shelves as if they were her own toys.
"You didn't tell Betty a story today, I suppose!" her voice echoing with reproach for my neglect. I keep spinning, trying to escape the ghosts of the past that haunt me, but they're like shadows clinging to my heels, reminding me of what I've lost.
"Today Lia told Betty she'd bring her a gift, actually, hehehe," her laughter resonating with joy as she recalled happy moments with her friend. Memories grow sharper with each step, engulfing me in a whirlwind of mixed emotions as I face the relentless reality of my situation.
So many memories flood my mind, like fragments of a broken mirror piercing my consciousness.
"Betty wants to go to the grand waterfall, actually!" her voice echoes in my ears, full of enthusiasm and joy. I remember the sparkle in her eyes when I mentioned the possibility of a hot air balloon ride, and how her laughter filled the room like a torrent of happiness.
So many promises, so many shared dreams.
"As long as Betty has you, she'll be home wherever she is, I guess," her blushing confession transports me back to those moments of complicity and tenderness we shared.
I clench my hands tightly, feeling the overwhelming weight of guilt pressing down on my chest. It was I who unleashed this chaos; my mere existence was the spark that ignited the flames of destruction.
A fatal mistake I cannot undo.
"It's not fair." My words escape my lips in a whisper drowned by despair as I fall to my knees, overwhelmed by the weight of my helplessness.
Pandora approaches with a mocking laugh, as if others' suffering were entertainment for her.
"Hahaha, it's no big deal for her, you just have to reset again," her voice sounds like a cruel mockery in my ears as she places her hand on my head with a mix of condescension and disdain.
I scrutinize her face, noticing a subtle but meaningful change. She used to look like a thirty-year-old woman, but now her appearance is more youthful, barely in her twenties. What kind of hidden power allows her to alter her appearance in this way?
"I enjoyed seeing you, Marco Luz," her farewell sounds like a distant echo, barely perceptible amidst the tumult of my anguished thoughts.
The world around me begins to distort, merging into a blend of shadows and flickering lights. My heart beats fiercely in my chest, feeling the darkness looming over me like a cold, oppressive cloak.
"Let me save her, let me stay by her side," my words well up from the depths of my being, a desperate plea escaping my lips uncontrollably. "She's all I have; I can't afford to lose her."
I kneel before Pandora, humbled by the magnitude of my plea, but I don't care. For Betty, for the only glimmer of light in my existence, I'm willing to submit to any price.
"Please," I feel the cold ground on my forehead, I feel my blood boiling and my heart sinking into emptiness.
The world fades around me, plunging me into absolute darkness.
"You may be by her side, but not in the way you want."
Pandora's last words resonate in my mind like a grim echo, leaving me with a sense of emptiness and despair.
I feel the gentle touch of raindrops hitting my face, while my body tenses with the sensation of exhaustion and desolation that overwhelms me.
I close my eyes tightly, hoping to find some solace in the darkness, but all I find is a purplish glow illuminating my path to damnation. And yet, amidst the desperation, a smile forms on my lips.
"I'm worthless," my voice echoes on the battlefield, barely audible amidst the roar of the unleashed fight around me. I watch helplessly as Beatrice's Shamack seems dangerously close to breaking, on the brink of destruction.
Beside me, Crusch remains unconscious, oblivious to the chaos surrounding us.
The sound of metallic blows and cries of pain penetrate my senses, reminding me of the harsh reality in which I find myself. This world, my home world, both are equally trash.
"What good is having power if they take away everything I want?" My voice, laden with frustration and despair, gets lost amidst the chaos's roar as mana flows within me, infusing me with an unusual clarity.
My eyes, sensitive to the flow of magical energy around me, catch the ominous glow of miasma, that unknown force that corrupts everything in its path.
I desperately search for a connection with Beatrice, but the necklace she carries gives no hint of her presence. I channel my mana into it in a desperate attempt to retrieve her, but the object remains inert in my hands.
The desolate ground, cratered and covered in solidified lava, and the darkness looming over us bear silent witness to the tragedy surrounding us.
The lifeless bodies of knights and golems, shrouded in miasma, lie scattered across the battlefield like silent shadows of the death that lurks around us.
Suddenly, a sound like shattering glass breaks the air, announcing the arrival of my enemy. Flynn emerges from the Shamack with an ironic smile and eyes full of ruthless glint, as real as life itself.
My fists clench with contained rage as I watch him with hatred.
"That was the power of an artificial spirit, truly astonishing," Flynn's words resonate in my ears like a cruel mockery as his body is engulfed in purplish flames, exuding a miasma so dense it seems to solidify on the ground.
Anger and pain mix within me, fueling my determination for revenge. I thought I could change, that I could find peace and happiness alongside those I love, but once again, fate snatches that possibility away from me.
"I'll kill you..." My voice is barely a whisper filled with hatred, but Flynn shrugs indifferently.
Rain soaks my body, but the scorching heat burning within consumes me. I feel something stirring inside me, a familiar presence demanding my attention.
"They betrayed you, Marco Luz," Flynn's words hit me like a dagger to the chest.
A sudden impulse overtakes me, a decision made in the heat of battle and pain. I can't allow this injustice to go unpunished, I can't let Beatrice's sacrifice be in vain.
"I already knew..." My voice resonates with cold, calculated determination as I prepare for the final confrontation. I have no other choice, there's no turning back.
I clench my fists tightly, feeling the dark power of the miasma flowing through me.
I raise my gaze to the threatening sky as Flynn lunges toward me with a sneer on his face. In that moment, the world seems to freeze around me, and I become the eye of the impending storm.
I am destined to witness the death of those I love, but this time, I won't stand idly by. This time, I will be the one to write my destiny in blood and fire.
My own actions have led me to this point, to witness their departure, to feel the helplessness of not having been able to save her. But there's no room for doubt or hesitation anymore.
I must become a monster if I want to avenge her loss, if I want to fill this void with the blood of those who caused her suffering.
I'm sorry, Beatrice, but I can't afford to remain human any longer.
I begin by focusing on my gate, feeling its essence merge with mine, feeling every fiber of my being ignite with fierce determination. I seek not only to replenish my mana but to transform my gate, to absorb both odo and miasma and let destiny play its hand.
I'll become a monster made of anger and pain, ready to unleash its fury upon those who dared to take away what I loved most.
Every cell in my body responds to the call of the miasma, a corrosive and seductive energy that promises me the strength needed to face this battle. I feel my skin shiver under its influence, my heart beating with an intensity that shakes the ground beneath my feet.
If my gate couldn't bear the weight of this power before, then I'll reinforce it with my will, turning it into an impenetrable fortress capable of channeling darkness itself.
The world regains its normal speed just in time for me to confront Flynn's fist, which charges towards my face at the speed of lightning. My anger overflows, and in a moment of pure fury, I manage to dodge his blow and grab his arm in a firm and ruthless grip.
The miasma flows through me, feeding my determination, strengthening my muscles, and igniting a wildfire within me.
"I'll kill you!" my voice resonates with a threatening echo as I create a fireball in my hand and hurl it at Flynn with the force of a cataclysm. Every blow I strike seems to push the limits of my body beyond imagination, as if the miasma were shaping me into something more than human.
"Haha! Do you think your weak power can...?" his laughter fades into a scream of pain as my fist strikes his face with a force that could split mountains. Blood spurts from my wounds, but I don't stop, I can't afford to falter now.
"Do you think you're the only one benefiting from the miasma?" my voice resounds with wild ferocity as the dark power completely takes hold of me.
"Marco, Betty wants you to read her a bedtime story!" I can remember her, as vividly as if she were in front of me.
I recall Betty's words like a beacon in the darkness, guiding me forward even in the darkest moments.
It doesn't matter if my body disintegrates in the process if I must sacrifice my humanity to achieve my goal. I accept this power with all its consequences, with the certainty that there's no turning back.
The crystal in my chest shines with supernatural intensity, a light that blends with the glow of the crystal embedded by Ley. I feel my body renewing with an energy that defies all logic, my wounds healing instantly under its restorative influence.
"What... what are you doing?" Flynn's voice sounds full of fear as he struggles to free himself from my grip, but it's already too late for him.
"Get ready for the end," my voice booms like thunder echoing in the storm, announcing the inevitable outcome of our battle.
Flynn steps back, and as I release him, I can see that the miasma within him has diminished. I observe my hand closely, noting the black stain spreading across my palm.
Did I absorb it?
"HAHAHAHA," a deranged laughter erupts from my throat, revealing the answer I sought.
There's no reason to hold back anymore. I'll kill him, torture him, and tear him apart completely. The mere thought of his suffering fuels the voracious fire burning within me, consuming all compassion and rationality.
Despite the relentless rain pouring down, I feel neither cold nor heat. All I perceive is emptiness, an emptiness I yearn to fill with the blood of my enemies.
"Flynn!" I shout his name with fury as I channel mana into my hand, ready to unleash all my wrath upon him. My fist becomes a lethal projectile that shatters his arm with unbridled violence.
"Agh!" Flynn recoils, shielding himself as best he can while uttering a spell that summons ice spikes to neutralize me. But I'm faster, more agile. I dodge the sharp ice spikes with precise movements, as if I could anticipate each of his attacks.
"Goa!" I yell, hurling several fireballs at Flynn, but they dissipate in the air upon colliding with his dense miasma aura. However, each failed attempt only increases my thirst for destruction.
I absorb more and more miasma, feeling my power expand and strengthen with each breath. It's intoxicating, exhilarating.
Suddenly, a sharp pang of pain pierces my abdomen. Looking down, I discover a violet crystal embedded in my stomach.
What is this?
Flynn lunges at me with renewed ferocity, while a horde of golems emerges from the earth to crush me.
My mind focuses on Crusch, beside me, vulnerable and defenseless.
Should I protect her or go on the offensive?
The decision is clear: I must rid myself of my enemies to ensure their safety. The power Flynn possesses isn't intrinsic to him but flows from an external source. It's a weakness I can exploit, a gap in his armor I must ruthlessly capitalize on.
After all, I was the one who destroyed his body once, and now it will be time to seal his fate once and for all. I need answers, answers that I can only obtain by unleashing all my power. I clench my fists tightly, every muscle tense, every nerve vibrating with anticipation.
There's a power I've feared using, one I've rejected out of fear of the consequences.
But today, on this battlefield, life shows me that I have no other choice. I always make the mistake of underestimating the circumstances.
"UNSEEN HAND!" my voice rises above the din of battle, and in response, something inside me erupts like a volcano. An unknown, dark, and voracious power surges from the depths of my being.
Boom!
The golems explode into pieces, their bodies shattered by the devastating force of what I've summoned. Six hands made of miasma emerge from my body, extending like tentacles of a hungry monster.
Each hand is an extension of my will, a lethal weapon that pierces the flesh of my enemies with surgical precision. Flynn abruptly stops, but his twisted smile doesn't fade.
"It's over, Marco Luz!" he shouts defiantly, challenging my determination. A giant golem advances toward me, its arms outstretched to crush me. I could easily dodge it, but Crusch is here, vulnerable to any inadvertent attack from me.
I still haven't mastered the power of the hands, and one wrong move could end her life.
"Flynn!" my voice echoes strongly as I direct the six hands upwards. In an instant, they tear through the golem ferociously, shattering its limbs and finally crushing its head with a dull thud.
The golem falls, shaking the ground beneath my feet, and a triumphant smile forms on my lips. I didn't even need to resort to mana to defeat it. My gaze settles on Flynn, who retreats as I advance.
"How did you become that?" I inquire.
Flynn stares at me in horror, despite his ethereal form, I can feel his fear, the fear of death consuming me.
"Fura! El Dona!" he shouts, responding with a rain of wind blades and stone spikes, while pillars emerge from the ground like deadly spears.
I run towards Crusch, feeling the fury burning inside me. The Unseen Hands sprout from my being, twisting like tentacles in a frenzy of darkness. The blood, mixed with the miasma of the battlefield, forms a viscous amalgam at my feet, a testament to the lives fading away in this conflict.
The shattered castle, a silent witness to the destruction, seems to whisper its lamentations amidst its smoking ruins. The stone spikes lunge towards me, but my mind, engulfed in a whirlwind of pain and hatred, barely registers the threat.
The Unseen Hands, my beautiful allies, try to protect me, but they are torn apart by the sharp cuts of the wind. A stabbing pain shakes my skull, as if my own brain were trembling.
Yet, the hatred persists, a voracious flame that devours any trace of humanity within me. I will be the monster destiny demands me to be, without remorse or mercy.
"You'll die, bastard!" my voice resounds, distorted by anger, as I grab Crusch and tear her away from the enemy spells' influence.
I feel the stabbing pain of the stone spikes piercing my back, but the sensation barely reaches me through the red mist clouding my vision. My blood, hot as lava, spills uncontrollably, feeding the chaos consuming me.
"You're weak, Marco Luz!" my enemy's words reach me like a distant echo, barely perceptible amidst the roar of battle. Flynn lunges at me with fury, trying to injure me with a fist imbued with hatred.
With unnatural dexterity, my body responds, moving with the agility of a frenzied beast. My fingers close around the purplish crystal embedded in my flesh, and I wrench it out with a sharp gesture, unleashing a torrent of crimson blood.
The pain barely manages to penetrate the barrier of my rage. I drive the crystal into Flynn's chest with ruthless violence, feeling the twisted satisfaction of seeing him suffer. Blood mixes with the merciless rain, creating a red river that disperses across the devastated ground.
"Damn it," Flynn's voice sounds muffled by pain, but I no longer perceive humanity in his eyes. Here lies the true nature of my being, an essence corrupted by hatred and vengeance, a deranged entity that feeds on anguish and suffering.
However, in this moment of unbridled fury, there is no room for reflection or regret. There is only the burning desire to destroy those who have taken everything I loved.
Without a second thought, I plunge my hand into my hollow abdomen. A mix of pain and ecstasy courses through me as I manipulate my entrails with sinister determination.
Then, without giving fear or doubt any time, I invoke the spell:
"Goa!" a voracious blaze erupts from my entrails like a torrent of purifying fire. The sensation of burning consumes me, but amidst the agony, I find a strange solace. The flame devours everything in its path, consuming flesh and sealing wounds with its scorching heat.
The bleeding stops, but the darkness nesting within me only grows denser. I don't have much time; the wounds will reopen, and then I'll die. I need to kill it so they can get close.
One of my unseen hands emerges from the shadows, delicately holding my internal organs. It's an act of pure survival, a macabre display of the monstrosity consuming me.
"What... what have you done?" Flynn stammers, his voice barely a drowned whisper of fear. His shell begins to crack, revealing his true self.
He succumbed to the miasma, yet I am the chosen one.
In the end, I am the sage candidate. I clench my fists, feeling my sanity fade along with the last spark of humanity within me.
"Fura!" The roar of the wind and the scorching heat of the fire envelop me as I advance toward my enemy with determination. Every step I take in the battlefield destroyed by violence reminds me of the pain I carry inside, the void left by his absence.
"Fell Goa!" my voice reverberates in the air, filled with anger and thirst for revenge, as I conjure a firestorm that devours everything in its path in a whirlwind of flames. The flames dance furiously, unleashing infernal destruction around them.
Smoke and steam shroud the scene, but my senses are alert, waiting for the moment of confrontation. My heart beats strongly, driven by the need for justice. Then, a break in the clouds allows a ray of sunlight to illuminate the battlefield, revealing the figure of my enemy sent flying through the air.
"Unseen Hand!" I exclaim, striking the ground with determination to launch myself into the sky. I use the wind to ascend, rising toward Flynn with the determination of a predator pouncing on its prey.
Reaching him, I don't hesitate. My hands cling to him ferociously, feeling the heat of my rage burning in every muscle as one of my unseen hands transforms into an unstoppable fist that collides with his face.
"Boom!"
The blow is so brutal that the ground trembles under its force, creating a crater that reflects the brutality of my assault, like an indelible scar on the desolate earth around us.
Flynn's arm falls into my hand, dripping a liquid miasma that evaporates into the air laden with lamentations. Slowly, I feel my grip weaken, and the arm turns into a repulsive, amorphous mass, a grotesque manifestation of what has been done to his body.
It's fascinating, in a twisted and sickening way, to contemplate how his body decomposes before my eyes, how the life remaining in him fades into a mist of darkness and despair.
Just as hers faded away.
As I fall to the ground, my unseen hands cushion the descent with a dull crunch, ensuring that my advance toward Flynn does not falter. The rain, falling with unleashed fury, soaks my skin and mixes its coldness with the heat of my fury, creating a dizzying sensation that intoxicates my senses.
"You're a monster!" Flynn screams in desperation, his voice filled with terror at my relentless determination, his words echoing in the air like a macabre echo of my own monstrosity.
A cruel smile spreads across my lips as I lean towards him, but the price of my carelessness becomes evident when I fail to notice his movement.
"Fura!" The impact is sudden, and my arms fly through the air, blood spurting from my shoulders with force. The sunlight filters through the clouds, illuminating the hellish spectacle unfolding under its glow.
I watch with satisfaction as my arms fall to the ground, while Flynn, in a desperate attempt to escape, drags his battered and mutilated body. Putrefaction and miasma surround him, announcing his inevitable fate.
However, there is no compassion in my heart. I am a bloodthirsty monster craving revenge.
"Please, stop!" Flynn stammers, his voice choked with panic.
There is no mercy in my heart; only a thirst for revenge and an insatiable desire to make suffer the one who took everything I loved. I look at my shoulders, then back at him.
Wizards often cast spells directly from their hands. But at the same time, they conjure things outside of them.
In the end, magic comes through the door, so it doesn't matter which part of your body you have; all are capable of using magic.
"Goa!" Crimson vapor rises on my shoulders. The blood, the damned blood, evaporates into the air, forming crimson scabs on my skin, stopping my bleeding.
With an unseen hand, I wrap around his neck, feeling the weak pulse of his life throb under my fingers. His eyes, filled with terror and desperation, reflect the torment consuming him, foreshadowing the indescribable suffering that lies ahead.
The miasma shell is destroyed, revealing the amorphous mass that it is. He's not a human being; he's just a worm about to die.
I smile, looking him in the eyes.
"Don't do it! Please, I beg you!" Flynn screams, struggling to breathe between my claws.
He seems to understand what I intend to do.
"Now you beg like a human?" I sigh, looking at him with hatred. "Don't make me laugh."
Every movement is imbued with malice, every gesture loaded with calculated cruelty.
"Who made you do that?" I ask, looking at him without a shred of remorse. In fact, this feels good.
The miasma emanating from his body mixes with the incessant rain, impregnating the air with a repulsive, dense smell. Flynn's desperation becomes my nectar, feeding my insatiable thirst for revenge.
"Stop! You don't have to do this!" he pleads, his voice choked with terror.
With a guttural growl, I lift him into the air with supernatural force, feeling the weight of his life hanging by an invisible thread.
"Why Beatrice?!" I exclaim, squeezing harder.
His muffled screams resonate in the open field, blending with the sound of the storm unleashed upon us.
"Please, let me live!" he begs, with black tears in his eyes and a trace of fear in his voice.
His fire has already gone out; all that's left is the remnant of the miasma.
There is no mercy in my actions, only the relentless determination to make pay those who dared take away what I love.
Torture is an art that I master with expertise, a macabre dance of pain and suffering in which I am the sole protagonist.
Of course, I learned many things during the time I was with them in my world.
Every whimper, every scream of agony, is like a symphony of horror filling the air, fueling my insatiable thirst for destruction.
The truth is, I no longer know who I am. Maybe I'm not Marco, or maybe I am the authentic Marco. I'm a monster, a deranged being who has lost all trace of humanity on his path to revenge.
And as I gaze upon Flynn's deformed face, I feel that I have finally found my true purpose in this life.
My hands, still dripping with dark miasma, twist around his neck, but it's not enough.
I want more, I need more.
With a sharp motion, I tear off the only arm he has left, ripping flesh and bone with a sinister squeal lost amidst Flynn's wails.
"AAAAHHH!" The gut-wrenching scream fades into the rainy night, drowned out by the roar of the storm.
Blood spurts in a jet-black stream, painting the shattered ground with a grotesque pattern reflecting my own unleashed wrath.
But it's still not enough.
"Stop screaming." I glare at him annoyed. "You're not even human, you don't even have genitals, I don't know why you're crying so much."
With a savage gesture, I tear off his legs one by one, with a force that seems to come from the depths of my twisted being. Bones crunch under my hands, and Flynn's screams turn into an agonizing moan as his mutilated body lies twisted on the muddy ground.
"HAHAHAHAHA!" And as I observe the outcome of my actions, a wild, deranged laughter bursts from my lips, mingling with the sound of rain and wind that lashes out in this beautiful place.
It's a hellish spectacle, a masterpiece of pain and suffering that only I can appreciate in all its splendor.
I'm a monster, a true demon incarnates, and I won't rest until every drop of blood has been spilled and every scream of agony has been heard.
The damp, dense air takes over the surroundings as Flynn seems to want to articulate words, but I, eager to continue my work, am not willing to let this stop.
"No, don't worry, I'll speak for a moment." My voice resonates with sinister calm as I divert my gaze to the grayish sky, as if carefully analyzing the situation. "I suppose the one behind this is that sage, Bordeaux?"
Flynn's gaze, clouded by despair, fills me with such delightful joy that I can hardly contain my happiness.
A glimpse of memory seeps into my mind, a feeling of déjà vu that I can't fully grasp.
"But I know there's someone else, he couldn't have obtained this power on his own. Someone is using you," I smile, looking him in the eyes. "And you're going to tell me who it is."
Perhaps my soul has always longed for this moment, this act of violence and sadism.
"Flynn, do you want to experience a new kind of pain?" My words are almost a whisper as his body, slow but inevitably, distorts before my eyes.
Yet, there are other ways to inflict pain.
Flynn tries to articulate words, but I exert more pressure on his throat, relishing in his groans, as gut-wrenching as they are melodious.
The rain persists in its chaotic dance, but this moment, this wonderful moment of torture, belongs to me entirely.
I smile at the unseen hand, recognizing that I finally have a weapon of my own.
If something can grow, it can also diminish. I forcefully open Flynn's mouth, letting the rainwater fall inside with a dull and macabre sound. I delight in watching horror reflected in his desperate eyes.
"Tell me, if you dare. If you tell me, I'll grant you immediate death." Flynn tries to articulate words, but this time the water accumulated in his mouth silences him completely.
The sound of my maniacal laughter resonates in the air, disrupting the heavy atmosphere around us.
"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" My laughter is like sharp daggers piercing the silence of the night, a twisted echo of my return.
I spread my arms wide, as if embracing the darkness itself, while laughter takes hold of me with uncontrollable intensity.
Flynn, his face contorted with pain and helplessness, can only stare at me in horror as my lungs fill with air and my vocal cords tense with each laugh.
"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" I repeat, letting the shrill and grotesque sound fill the space between us, drowning out any attempt at a response from my victim.
Laughter mixes with coughing, as if invisible blades were apart tearing my throat, but nothing can stop the ecstasy of this moment.
And amidst measured laughter, his face contorted by suffering becomes a mask of utter idiocy.
Then, just as I'm about to continue.
"You're Betty's knight, I suppose." Pain pierces me like burning needles, an unbearable torment that twists my insides. Beatrice's voice, a whisper in the darkness, pulls me out of my darkest thoughts.
"Frost Wind." My voice is icy and cruel as I conjure the magic of the wind, forcing the humid air to flood Flynn's lungs. I relish the twisted chill that runs down my spine as I watch him writhe in agony.
Lowering the temperature, I cause the water droplets to freeze.
Flynn's eyes widen forcefully, his dilated pupils reflecting the terror consuming his soul. His body convulses as the temperature drops sharply. Revulsion washes over me as I witness his suffering, but I confront my inner demons and continue with my work.
"Speak quickly, I'm getting bored." My voice sounds like a sinister and ruthless roar. I'm a monster, that's what I am.
Flynn spits miasma from his mouth, a disgusting mixture of blood and pus that oozes from his lungs with each labored breath. I observe with a strange mix of fascination and repulsion, recalling moments I'd prefer to forget.
"Why do I feel this way?" My voice rises to the sky, seeking answers I know I'll never find. But a voice responds from the depths of my consciousness, a voice I recognize instantly.
"That's not what Beatrice would want for you." The voice is a cold and chilling whisper, a shadow of the past materializing before me. I recognize her instantly, the person I've been fighting alongside, my companion in this battle.
There stands Crusch, looking at me in horror as she can barely stand. Her tattered clothes, heavy breathing, and depleted mana indicate that she's standing purely out of sheer willpower.
She tries to approach, but I don't want her to bother me at this moment.
Without a second thought, my unseen hand lunges toward her, rendering her unconscious on the ground. It's easier to control if there are only three hands, I repeat to myself, though the shadow of doubt looms in my mind.
"I'm not here for nonsense now." My gaze turns to Flynn, who finally seems willing to speak, though his voice sounds strained and trembling.
"It was, it was..." His desperate voice, his gaze seems ready to speak.
Flynn's head is torn off in one swift blow, an act of violence as precise as it is grotesque. I watch with a mixture of fascination and horror as his decapitated body falls to the ground, blood gushing from his neck in a crimson cascade that stains the ground red.
The dull sound of his head hitting the wet ground echoes in my ears, a macabre echo of the death I've just witnessed.
My gaze shifts to the trail of mana it leaves behind, a dark shadow dissolving among the castle ruins. A shiver runs down my spine as I witness its disappearance, as if darkness itself had swallowed its presence.
Seconds pass, and Flynn's body begins to slowly disintegrate, turning into a uniform mass of flesh and shattered bones.
"I must take a sample to study," I decide amidst the chaos surrounding me. It's best to ask Fourier for it, I think as I contain the surge of emotions threatening to overflow within me.
My mind is ablaze, consumed by injustice and the desire for revenge.
But before I can even process what's happening, more hands begin to emerge from me, writhing like hungry snakes seeking prey.
"AAGGHH!" A piercing scream escapes my lips, the sound of pure desperation as I feel my sanity slipping away.
"Marco!" Fourier's voice echoes in my ears, a distant echo amidst the chaos surrounding me. But before I can react, one of the hands moves with supernatural speed, driven by a force I cannot control.
I know what is about to happen, but I am powerless to stop it.
The hand heads towards Fourier with relentless ferocity, as if possessed by a will of its own. The blow is imminent, and I am a helpless witness to my own destruction.
"Get away!" I shout, struggling to contain the torrent of fury and despair threatening to overwhelm me.
The hand, once extended with confidence, now lies limp as if it had never been a part of me. There is no pain, only the abrupt absence of what once was.
It was like when I used magic against Flynn, but this time with miasma.
My eyes burn, the world becomes blurry, an intense red flooding everything. Something twists inside me, climbing from my throat until, without warning...
"Bluargh!" A disgusting dark mass erupts from my mouth, covering the ground before me. My senses cloud, barely discerning Fourier's figure before receiving a brutal blow to the back of my head.
I find myself lying on the ground, rain hitting my face as thunder rumbles in the distance.
"Marco!" Her voice, I can still hear it like a distant echo amidst the chaos. The hole in my chest persists, a constant reminder of betrayal and pain. Unknown hands grasp me, trying to bring me back to reality.
"The knight of Betty is indeed the strongest!" Beatrice's words resonate in my mind like a distorted echo. I see her, I hear her, but she's out of my reach, a distant dream in a world of nightmares.
"Betty loves you very much, indeed!" Her voice, filled with emotion, cuts through the fog of my mind. For a moment, the darkness recedes, giving way to a glimmer of clarity.
Did I mess up?
No...
The light fades quickly, consumed by the shadow dwelling within me. A void, as deep as the abyss's darkness, takes hold of me. I surrender to it, accepting its call with resignation.
I'll kill them all.
A cold determination, a promise steeped in blood and vengeance. Roswaal, the sages, whoever they may be. If necessary, I'll shake the foundations of this world. If necessary, I'll leave a trail of destruction in my wake.
"Marco is the hero of Lugunica," Emilia's words echo in my mind, accompanied by the sweet image of Beatrice sharing cookies. But there's no room for kindness in this heart anymore.
"Marco is Betty's hero too."
If I must become a monster to end this nightmare...
So be it.