Next to him, Kloud was still slouched over, crying in silence. Astaroth was having a hard time understanding the situation.
"This is all my fault," Kloud uttered, his voice hoarse.
"Don't you pity yourself, muscle brain. Atone for what you did, instead of crumbling like a shattered mirror."
Astaroth stood to his feet. Looking at him, Aberon liked the look in his eyes.
"I agree with old man Aberon. Stop your self-loathing already. I've seen what demonic possession does to someone. Instead of crying here alone, you should be over there, apologizing to the survivors."
Astaroth pointed to the center of the settlement, where the fire was still blazing.
Kloud lifted his tear-filled face, seeing where Astaroth was pointing.
"I can't. I killed my friends. Their friends. I took away from the surviving ones the means to feel fulfilled at the end of the day. I can never face them again."
Astaroth's face morphed into a mask of anger.
