There were many things Zayn didn't know about himself, and that was enough to drive him crazy. He wondered whether someone would genuinely like him without the stereotypical bad boy he had grown into.
He had so many questions.
A lot of things that didn't allow him to sleep at night. His conscience haunted him more than anything.
Even though he was technically a dead person, he always remembered every death, everything he had done, and the more he grew older and more robust, the more he lost himself in the bloodbath, the more he questioned whether he was any different from Hussein Mustafa.
"Why? You're afraid you'll take the bait? Come on, do it! Punch your arms into my chest and rip my heart out. I know you thought about it more than once. You are putting an end to the great evil the Vazirians ever had to come face to face with.
