The dawn brought little comfort.Ash still clung to the broken stones, and the ground outside the stronghold steamed with the ichor of slain demons. Survivors tended wounds, patched armor, and whispered prayers that tasted of both relief and dread.
But Aric could not rest.
He sat at the edge of the battlements, the horizon painted in dull gray light, violet shadows flickering faintly around his hands. His body still ached from the night's slaughter, yet his mind throbbed with something worse.
That voice.Cold. Confident. Too familiar to dismiss as madness, yet too alien to accept as his own.
"Master or servant…" The words echoed, gnawing at the edges of his thoughts.
Doubt in the Ranks
"Aric."
He turned. Kael stood a few feet away, arms crossed, expression sharp as a blade. His tone carried no gratitude for the battle survived.
"You fought like a demon yourself," Kael said. "Maybe that's why they keep coming. Maybe they're drawn to you."
Aric's jaw clenched. "You think I summon them?"
"I think," Kael stepped closer, "that whatever power you wield is dangerous. I've seen men fight bravely. I've seen desperate strength. But you…" He gestured at the faint tendrils still writhing at Aric's fingertips. "That's not human."
Lira appeared before Aric could respond, slipping between them like water over fire. Her silver eyes hardened on Kael.
"If not for Aric, we'd be corpses rotting outside the walls. Do you want to bury your suspicion alongside your gratitude?"
Kael's mouth twisted, but he said nothing more. He turned sharply and stalked away, leaving silence in his wake.
Lira's gaze lingered on Aric, softer now. "You should rest. The others won't stop whispering, but I'll make sure their doubts don't turn into knives."
Aric tried to thank her, but the words caught in his throat. He wasn't sure he deserved her faith. Not when he didn't even trust himself.
The Whisper Returns
Sleep, when it came, was shallow and broken. Shadows crept behind his eyelids, replaying the screams of last night's battle. But beneath them, like a serpent in tall grass, the voice slithered back.
"You think you command sorrow? Foolish child. It was forged long before you."
Aric spun in the dreamscape — no battlefield, no stronghold, just endless darkness humming with sorrow energy. Tendrils lashed out from the void, curling around him like chains.
"Who are you?" Aric shouted, his voice swallowed by the black.
The laughter that followed was deep, resonant, and cruel.
"Names mean little to one so unripe. But you will know me soon enough. The harvest has only begun."
The chains tightened, sinking into his skin. Power rushed through him, intoxicating, unbearable. For a heartbeat, he felt infinite. Then the pain struck — sharp, burning, endless.
He screamed—
—and woke gasping, drenched in sweat, the chamber around him glowing faintly with violet light.
The others slept uneasily nearby. None stirred. None saw the shadows clawing at his skin before fading into nothing.
Lira's Discovery
Later, as he stumbled into the ruins to breathe, he found Lira waiting. She leaned against a broken pillar, arms folded, watching him with quiet intensity.
"You dream loudly," she said.
Aric froze. "You heard me?"
She nodded. "Not the words. Just… the sorrow. It shook the walls."
He wanted to deny it, but her gaze left no room for lies.
"I heard a voice," he admitted, finally. "It spoke as if the System wasn't mine. As if I was just…" He trailed off.
"A vessel," Lira finished.
Aric's heart thudded. "How did you—"
"I've studied fragments," she said quickly, eyes flashing. "Old records about demonkind, curses, and… harvesters. Power that feeds on pain. I never thought I'd meet one, let alone fight beside one."
Her words cut deep. Not with judgment, but with knowledge.
"Tell me," Aric demanded, stepping closer. "What do you know about this power? About what I am?"
But before she could answer, a horn blared again — this time not from the battlements, but from within.
Betrayal Within
Chaos erupted in the stronghold. Shouts rang out, steel clashed against steel. Aric and Lira sprinted back to the central chamber to find the unthinkable — resistance members clashing with each other, blades flashing in the torchlight.
Kael stood at the center, his sword dripping red, eyes burning with something unnatural.
"You see?" he roared, pointing at Aric. "His curse has poisoned us all! The sorrow eats at our minds, turns us against one another!"
Several soldiers, faces twisted in grief and rage, turned on their own comrades. Others resisted, but the madness spread like fire through dry grass.
Aric felt the pulse of sorrow energy — but not from him. From somewhere deeper, beneath the ruins. Feeding on their pain, amplifying their despair, turning it into bloodshed.
The voice whispered again, almost gleeful.
"Yes… let them suffer. Let them feed you."
Aric's stomach turned. This wasn't his doing. Not directly. But the System — or the thing behind it — was feeding regardless.
And he had no idea how to stop it.
Aric stepped forward, shadows flaring around him, his voice cutting through the carnage.
"Enough!"
But Kael only laughed, madness twisting his features.
"You can't silence sorrow, Aric. You are sorrow."
The resistance fighters turned, torn between their captain and their harbinger. The chamber crackled with the promise of violence, the weight of betrayal pressing down on every soul.
And in the dark beneath the ruins, something stirred awake.