Red.
It seeped into Hermes' world like blood soaking through gauze. It clouded his vision, burned behind his eyes, and clung to every breath he took. He couldn't hear anything except the rushing pulse in his ears and the deep, bestial voice curling from the corners of his mind.
'You felt it too, didn't you? The sickness. The cruelty. The glee in their eyes.'
Hermes staggered forward, gripping his head. The voice wasn't foreign… It did not sound like the gritty voice of his inner beast either.
It was him.
His voice, the beast's words.
'They screamed for blood. They begged for it. We should give it to them.'
He fought to breathe. His thoughts were slippery, melting between fury and fear. He remembered what Quasar said—that everyone has a shadow, and denying it only makes it stronger.
But this… this wasn't just a shadow.
It was like an eclipse. The moon covers the sun, placing the world in absolute darkness for a moment.
His body responded before his mind could catch up.
