Third Arc (Fallen Heart) - 245. Pain And Anger III
The room bore witness to Ilex's torment as Angel's sinister power took hold. Pain, sharp and unrelenting, coursed through Ilex's body like a relentless storm. His muffled screams stifled beneath Angel's unyielding grip, were desperate pleas for respite from the agony that consumed him.
Each moment felt like an eternity as the dark power manipulated his very essence. It was as though an otherworldly force had invaded his mind, clawing at his thoughts and memories. Ilex writhed, his body contorted in a grotesque dance of suffering, but there was no escape. The pain had become an inescapable part of him.
The muffled cries of torment that escaped from his mouth were a haunting symphony of anguish, a testament to the overwhelming force that had him in its grasp. It felt as if his very soul was being torn asunder, his mind a battleground for power he could neither understand nor control.
Angel delved into Ilex's memories. A torrent of emotions and pain flooded his senses. It was an excruciating experience, akin to wading through a dark, turbulent sea of Ilex's thoughts, memories, and malevolence.
The images that assailed him were a chilling panorama of betrayal, hatred, and deception. He saw how Ilex had meticulously crafted his wicked plans, how he had plotted and schemed, always with the singular intent of harming Angel. The depth of Ilex's animosity was a bitter pill for Angel to swallow.
Angel's own hatred for Ilex burned like a fierce fire, stoked by the memories of countless attempts on his life. The pain of knowing that his own blood had been so consumed by malice was a heavy burden to bear.
Yet, amidst the darkness and despair of Ilex's thoughts, Angel also discovered a glimmer of something unexpected. Ilex's relentless pursuit of the truth, his unwavering belief that the real Angel still existed somewhere, was a revelation that cut through the fog of hatred. It was a testament to Ilex's desperate yearning for the cousin he had lost, the cousin he believed to be a mere imposter.
In that moment of profound understanding, Angel couldn't help but feel a pang of melancholy. He saw the torment that had driven Ilex, the relentless obsession that had clouded his judgment and fueled his actions. It was a tragedy in its own right, the story of a man consumed by his own misguided convictions.
With a heavy heart, Angel finally released his hand from Ilex's mouth, and a sense of eerie quietness settled over the room. Ilex lay motionless on the bed, his eyes closed, his face contorted in pain, and finally, mercifully, unconscious.
Angel's gaze remained fixed on his unconscious cousin. A maelstrom of conflicting emotions raged within him. He felt the weight of a profound dilemma pressing upon his shoulders, a choice that would shape the future in ways he could barely comprehend.
In that agonizing moment, doubt gnawed at him. The memories he had extracted from Ilex's mind revealed the extent of his cousin's treachery, the countless attempts on his life, and the ceaseless pursuit of vengeance. But now, Ilex lay helpless, robbed of his memories and incapacitated.
A surge of compassion tugged at Angel's conscience. He couldn't deny the possibility that this might be an opportunity for a fresh start, a chance for Ilex to reform, to leave behind the darkness that had consumed him. It was a glimmer of hope in a room heavy with the weight of their shared history.
Yet, Angel couldn't shake the lingering doubt. He knew the depths of Ilex's cunning, the lengths to which he had gone to deceive and harm. Could he truly trust that this memory loss was a genuine transformation, a turning point for Ilex? Or was it merely a temporary respite in a long and bitter conflict?
Gritting his teeth, Angel steeled himself against the maelstrom of emotions that raged within. The decision had been made, and he was committed to seeing it through. He couldn't let sentimentality or the faint echoes of familial love deter him from the path he had chosen.
His dark aura enveloped Ilex's unconscious form once more, as if the very shadows themselves obeyed his command. It was an eerie sight, a macabre dance of magic and malevolence. Ilex's body moved, manipulated by Angel's dark power, like a marionette under the control of a malevolent puppeteer.
In the dimly lit room, the fabric of the curtains quivered as Ilex's hands grasped them, preparing to hang himself. The heavy fabric tore, a harsh, rending sound that echoed the irrevocable severance of a past that had long been poisoned by treachery and betrayal. Angel watched with a cold, unwavering gaze, his heart an icy fortress against the flicker of doubt that sought to intrude.
Yet, even in the midst of this calculated vengeance, an internal battle raged within Angel. A small, fragile part of him, buried deep within the recesses of his heart, pleaded for mercy. It was a voice that spoke of compassion, of the possibility of redemption, and of a shared history that refused to be entirely erased.
But after what happened. The war, the assassination attempts, and everything, Angel realized he couldn't possibly do it. Redemption was impossible...
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