The air was heavy, filled with the smell of iron and rotting blood, and a dark stillness pervaded the entire place. The floor of the morgue had turned into a sea of blood, flowing under Ashen's feet, drowning every movement, every breath, every heartbeat. The corpses hanging from the ceiling, their limbs scattered, their mutilated faces staring at him with empty eyes that carried messages of pain and hatred. Ashen fell to his knees, his body torn, muscles burned from strain, skin scratched, bones aching with every movement.
The cries of his cursed clan began to seep into his mind. Every voice blamed him, every tone shouted his betrayal. "Why did you survive? Why did you leave us to die?" Every face appeared to him in the blood, every hand hurt him, every whisper left a new mark on his soul. Each attempt to breathe became a struggle with memories, with pain, with the desire to escape the regret that was drowning him.
At first, he tried to resist. He tried to scream and run, to reject everything, but every effort dissolved under the pressure of the place. Every chain, every scream, every movement of his body trapped him more in the grip of pain. This was when the complete collapse began: his body and soul slowly falling apart, despair flooding every cell in him, and everything around him becoming an echo of death, brutality, and unbearable regret.
But with this deep fall, a strange point began to form inside him. He no longer tried to resist. He no longer sought to escape regret or fight the brutality. Acceptance of the cruelty and regret began to seep into him. Every chain that pierced his body, every blow, every cry from his clan became a lesson, a push to learn something about himself, about the brutality that lived within him. He was no longer a victim but an observer of what was happening, learning from the pain, transforming internally with every moment.
With every moment of pain, every jolt of the chains, every whisper reminding him of his responsibility for his clan's death, he gradually turned into a living embodiment of brutality and regret. His torn body became a tool to relive the pain, and every feeling of guilt became fuel. Every move he made, powered by the inner fire ignited by memories of his clan, every scream of blood, every physical shock, strengthened this transformation until Ashen became a living symbol of suffering and cruelty, a mad figure fueled by pain and regret.
The faces in the blood began to speak inside him as one voice. Every whisper, every scream, every glance from his clan transformed him further into a living symbol of brutality. The ground around him was soaked in blood, the corpses moved as if part of his body, the chains tangled with him, cutting him, but no longer painful in the old way; they added to his strange strength, making him a living instrument of repeating the pain. Every jolt taught him, every strike trained him, every scream sharpened his madness.
His internal questions did not stop. "Am I still human? Or am I just a monster? Does any of this have meaning?" These questions echoed in his mind with no answer, each time igniting and feeding the brutality within him. Every pain became a lesson, every wound became part of his new identity, every tear of suffering turned into a symbol of his internal transformation.
At the moment when nothing could resist him, he stopped trying to control any feeling. Brutality and regret took over, guiding every action and every move. There was no longer a human mind trying to think logically, only a tense body and soul, seeking only to repeat the pain, to spread the brutality and regret onto the world around him.
Then came the heavy silence. A brief moment, yet charged with madness, brutality, and the destructive power accumulated within him. Ashen stood in the middle of the sea of blood, his body torn, his eyes filled with madness, his soul united with the brutality and regret that had completed his full psychological transformation. Everything around him became an extension of him; every drop of blood, every scream, every shadow of his cursed clan became part of his body and soul.
He raised his voice in the final vow, trembling with anger, pain, and brutality:
"They were buried in their blood… and now I will drown the whole world in a sea of suffering and blood! No one will survive, and the world will not survive. Every drop of blood, every pain, every regret… will become my power, and my punishment! This is what I will be, and this is my brutality… nothing will stop me from spreading the pain everywhere!"
These words were not just a vow, but a declaration of a new persona, a mad, terrifying figure, immersed in brutality and regret, ready to flood the world with suffering and blood. Everything within him became a tool, every feeling became fuel, every internal question became part of a savage being, the new Ashen, the embodiment of regret and brutality, read
y for any coming trial.