"Bless me Father as I offer my body to you."
The Berserker Clone had lived for more than twenty years. This was twenty years too long for a technique that should at most last a day. Years spent in countless battles all for a singular purpose, he should have perished a long time ago, but the interference of the Children of Ruin kept him alive, and with life came change.
In all that time his consciousness had started to awaken, something that his creator did not even expect, after all, Rowan had thought he would be using hundreds if not thousands of Berserker Clones before he could reclaim the page of his Singularity.
The Berserker Clone had even begun to cultivate his powers beyond his allotted limits, and like all sentient lifeforms, he would inevitably start to ask questions about life, his purpose of existence, or if there was something else beyond his mission.
