Compassion is a human's base, and an initial instinct. When compassion cannot be sought in another, they fear them. They spread lies, envy, and are prideful toward one another.
These are sins. Humans are born with sin — from the bottom of their hearts, they crave sin. Whether it be temporary pleasure, backbiting one another, or killing one another.
Everything must come full circle.
Just as pleasure brings joy, joy brings compassion.
This is not just an instinct like the rest of them. This is your "desire."
Adrenaline, lust, yearning for love, and the need to not sorrow all come from your desire. Your desires can blind you, or make your goal easier to achieve.
I know you may think this is off topic, but it is not. As mentioned, everything comes full circle.
Many years had passed in the memories, Nabû-Zēr, who was now king. Simon was silent, observant as he tried to find the root of how and why he was here. He knew this wasn't an illusion; his consciousness had been transferred to Nabû-Zēr's memories somehow.
Simon's feelings were somewhat connected to the Nabû-Zēr from the past. In his heart, he could see the image of the decagon clouding Nabû-Zēr's thoughts.
Every day, this is what the king would think about. It was awfully repetitive and annoying. Most of his time was dedicated to figuring out what this was and where it was.
He began to neglect his kingly duties, trying to rid the world of this ritual. However, no matter how hard he tried, Nabû could not obtain this dream.
The desire for this ritual clouded his mind. It was as if he were chasing an unreachable force. This would all change today. Under Jeanne's request, he was now laying siege to another country.
Although Simon did not hear the conversation that caused this, he knew the reason. The country he was invading had caused great trouble to Jeanne's homeland for many years.
In a way, he was settling for revenge to please his wife. The battle did not last long, fortunately. But the greed got to Nabû-Zēr.
"This building!" Nabû-Zēr shouted.
The large estate in front of him instantly seemed familiar. In his memories, this is the place that had held that sigil. The building was burning, but he couldn't let this opportunity go to waste so quickly!
He rushed into the burning estate, covering his mouth and nose as he descended into the basement. Surely enough, as he got to the basement, that was the first thing he saw.
On the left side of the basement, a blue decagon was engraved into the floor. It must've been at least 10 feet in width, and Nabû instantly pulled his spear out.
He was about to break it, until he heard a sudden mumble to his right. As he turned his head, he saw that familiar face. The face of his blind wife gagged and crying on the floor.
"Jeanne? What has—"
His words were cut off as pain hit his neck. Before his body had comprehended it, he fell to the ground. He let out a loud, rasping breath.
He held his right hand to his neck as blood poured out of it. Nabû-Zēr tried to speak, but the result was the clogged blood in his throat spurting out.
Nabû-Zēr dragged his body towards the decagon, not daring to look back. He had no idea what this ritual would do, but it was the only chance he had at saving his life.
"Thank you for removing the difficulty from this situation, Nabû-Zēr. I do hope you forgive me eventually."
A kick to Nabû-Zēr's ribs sent him flying into the center of the decagon, coughing out more blood.
Though he shouldn't physically have the ability to scream, his screams filled the room. He turned around, seeing those condescending, onyx sea-like eyes.
"C-curse you! Agh! Crest!"
Nabû-Zēr tried his best to make the sigil obey his will. No matter how he tried, it wouldn't listen. Nicholas grasped a knife out of his pocket, one that was far too modern for the time.
Nicholas slashed his own palm before pouring his blood into a goblet. Nicholas grabbed another before doing the same. Once the goblets were full, he placed both of them at the center of the room.
Nabû-Zēr had attempted to fight back, to get up, but with the life leaving his body, he could not. As he looked to his right, he saw the same sigil beneath her feet.
He could only weakly look at Nicholas with murderous intent.
"Become your true selves. Tower. Judgement."
Then, everything suddenly went blank. Simon was confused, but all he could see now was a small light. He sat down with his legs crossed, sighing as he thought.
(Nicholas is definitely not from this time. His speech isn't as proper, his attire is abnormal for the time, plus that knife...)
It was easy for him to come up with this conclusion, but something else concerned him more. How would he be able to get out of Nabû-Zēr's mind? Simon put this to the side for now; he had to figure out who this Nicholas was.
Simon began to recall memories of his earlier home, as there were many family portraits. The Crest legacy expanded far and wide, but even still, he could not recall anyone named Nicholas.
He closed his eyes in an attempt to think harder, rubbing his temples. However, when he opened them again, he was inside his own memories.
(What?)
As he looked around, he instantly noticed the scene. It was the scene of his father, Johnathan Crest, killing himself.
He looked at his younger self, noticing that next to him stood Nabû-Zēr. Had he accidentally brought the royal into his own memories?
Nabû-Zēr glanced at Simon, consumed with rage. Nabû knew Simon had seen the sins of his fathers, that he should understand his hatred. So why didn't he care?
(What reason should I have to care? I'm not my father, and I'm most certainly not Nicholas. Whoever he is, it's the past. Why should I care? What I do care about is whether his body is experiencing the same effects as mine was.)