That night, something within Rayen shifted.
He no longer cried.
He no longer hoped.
Instead, a seed of darkness took root.
He felt it—a presence growing within his chest, a pulse that matched the chaos of the world.
It whispered, softly:
"They are weak. You are stronger.
Use it… and judge them."
For the first time, Rayen felt power.
Not strength of muscles or weapons, but something deeper. Something that could see, feel, and respond to human cruelty.
And he welcomed it.