The first rays of dawn struggled to pierce the thick shroud of clouds above the ruined city. The cold morning air bit into Ethan's skin like shards of glass, but he barely noticed. His eyes, bloodshot and hollow, scanned the horizon as if seeking something he could no longer name.
The night's vengeance had left scars — not on his enemies, but deep inside himself.
He sat alone on the steps of a shattered temple, the stone cold beneath him, the weight of silence pressing down like a shroud. The shadows around him stirred faintly, restless as the darkness in his heart.
How much had he lost? How far had he fallen?
Memories clawed at him relentlessly.
He saw his mother's gentle hands smoothing his hair, her soft lullabies that once chased away nightmares.
He heard his father's booming laughter, filled with hope and pride.
He remembered Irelia's smile — bright and unyielding, a flicker of light in his darkest days.
But those memories were distant now, like ghosts fading into mist.
They were slipping away, replaced by something colder, sharper.
The curse.
It pulsed in his veins, a relentless whisper growing louder with every passing hour.
"Power... vengeance... you belong to me."
Ethan clenched his fists until his nails dug into his palms.
"I don't want this," he whispered, voice raw. "But I need it."
He had tasted power — terrible, intoxicating power that let him strike down those who betrayed him.
But with each use, the darkness crept closer, eroding the last pieces of who he was.
The faces of his enemies haunted him, twisted in fear and pain.
But worse were the faces of the innocent caught in the crossfire — neighbors, children, friends he couldn't save.
A sudden gust scattered fallen leaves across the cracked stone floor.
Ethan closed his eyes and took a shuddering breath.
The city had betrayed him.
The world had betrayed him.
But now, was he betraying himself?
He opened his eyes, and the shadows around him deepened.
A voice, cold and ancient, echoed inside his mind.
"Embrace me, Ethan. Only through me can you survive."
His hands trembled.
"No…" he whispered fiercely, "I won't lose myself."
But the truth was bitter.
Each time he resisted, the curse fought back harder.
His body ached, his mind frayed.
He felt the darkness not only in his veins but in his soul — a growing void swallowing the light.
In the distance, a faint sound broke the silence — a soft sob.
Ethan's head snapped up.
Through the rubble, he saw a small figure — a young girl, no older than ten, crouched behind a broken pillar.
Her eyes were wide with terror, stained with tears.
For a moment, the fierce warrior inside Ethan faltered.
He remembered Irelia's kindness, the warmth of human connection that he was slowly losing.
Carefully, he approached her, kneeling down to meet her gaze.
"Are you… hurt?" he asked, voice softer than before.
She nodded, trembling.
Ethan's hand hovered, unsure.
Would his touch bring comfort, or would the darkness infect even this small spark of life?
Suddenly, the girl flinched and hid her face.
"Don't touch me," she whispered. "You're like the others — monsters."
The words cut deeper than any blade.
Ethan's heart shattered.
He had become what he feared most — a monster, feared and hated by those he once vowed to protect.
Tears burned behind his eyes as he looked away.
He was alone in this world now.
A warrior cursed to walk a path of shadows.
Vengeance had brought him power, yes — but it had also brought a crushing loneliness.
The sun finally broke through the clouds, casting pale light on the ruins.
Ethan rose slowly, his figure tall and gaunt against the broken cityscape.
He whispered a vow beneath his breath:
"I will not lose myself to this darkness.But I will make them all pay…For what they took from me…And for the innocent who suffer in the shadows."
With heavy steps, Ethan disappeared into the ruins.
The road ahead was long and steep, marked by pain, loss, and the flickering hope of redemption.