Vael felt everything around him explode.
The crown was cold, heavier than it should be, and as soon as he touched it, his mind went blank. The whispers grew louder, filling his head. He tried to move, to pull it off, but his hands wouldn't listen. His body shook, but it wasn't from fear anymore. It was from something else—something dark.
The power surged inside him. It wasn't his power. It came from the crown, and it burned. The whispers twisted in his mind, pushing him, pulling him. He couldn't think clearly anymore. It was like the world was shifting around him, everything becoming strange and distant.
Wear me. Let me show you the truth.
The voice slithered through his thoughts, cold and ancient. It wasn't a voice. It was a presence, like the air itself had become alive and was swallowing him whole.
Vael stumbled to his feet, his breath quick and sharp. His legs felt stronger, like he could run for days, but it wasn't his strength. The crown had taken control. He reached for his chest, feeling his pulse, but there was nothing. His heart didn't beat. His body didn't feel real anymore.
The warlord's laughter echoed in the distance, but it sounded far away. The power inside him—inside his veins—was too loud. His thoughts felt like they were slipping, but they didn't matter.
His eyes—his eyes were black. The world around him twisted in shadows, and for a moment, everything felt still. The air, the fire, the screams—they were all so far away now.
The warlord stood ahead of him, watching. Vael knew what he had to do. His hand moved, almost without thinking. It felt like his body was moving on its own, controlled by the crown, by the power.
A blade of darkness formed in his hand, sharp and heavy. It hummed with energy, like it was alive.
The warlord's voice broke the silence. "You don't understand what you've done, boy. You can't control it."
But Vael didn't answer. The power felt good, like he was meant for it. His muscles tightened, his grip on the blade stronger.
Before the warlord could react, Vael moved. He was faster now, the shadows moving with him. The blade slashed through the warlord's chest with ease, and black blood poured from the wound.
The warlord gasped. "No... this can't be..." But he didn't finish his sentence. His body crumpled to the ground, lifeless.
Vael stood over him, looking down at the broken man. He should have felt proud, victorious, but all he felt was emptiness. The power inside him was still burning, still growing, and it wasn't enough. He wanted more. He wanted everything.
The whispers in his mind grew louder, urging him on.
It's only the beginning. You'll be stronger. But at what cost?
Vael clenched his jaw. He didn't care. The world had changed. And so had he. There was no going back now. The crown had taken everything from him. His humanity, his past, all of it was gone.
Now, all that was left was the power.
And it would never be enough.