All the pain Max had to endure became impossible to handle, to the point where his whole body started to go numb. His vision blurred, the throne before him turning into nothing more than a pale shape in the darkness, and his arms fully dropped to his sides as his steps finally halted when it was only a few steps before him.
His breathing had grown heavy, every inhale feeling like dragging glass through his chest, and every exhale left him shaking slightly, not because he wanted to fall, but because his body had simply been wounded too many times to obey him properly anymore. Blades, spears, claws, arrows, and teeth had all pierced him again and again, each wound disappearing from his flesh but leaving the pain somewhere deeper, somewhere his body could not heal so easily.
"Stop… I'm sorry… spare me…"
A voice echoed behind Max.
It appeared to be the last person in line, yet in truth, it was the very first person he had ever killed.
"That voice…"
