Elara gently cupped Viktor's face, her fingers caressing his cheek with affection. Their foreheads touched, and Viktor held his breath.
"When was the last time you received tenderness and love from another?" she whispered softly, her eyes searching his.
He swallowed hard, his gaze meeting hers. When had he last felt the warmth of a caring touch, the tenderness of love?
The memories seemed distant, drowned in the sea of pain that accompanied the loss of his parents.
The completeness of his life had been buried alongside them, and he had forgotten what it was like to be truly embraced by someone.
With every fiber of his being, he yearned for that connection, for the solace that only companionship could bring.
As he looked into Elara's eyes, he saw a glimmer of understanding, a promise of something he had long denied himself.
"Isn't that what you desire? The pain etched into your mind and body, directed towards the most cunning individuals in this world. You want to take your revenge," Elara spoke, delving into Viktor's subconscious mind, exposing the darkest corners of his memories.
Viktor's gaze held a mixture of longing and hesitation, torn between the thirst for retribution and the lingering weight of his principles.
"Show them," Elara continued, her voice carrying an otherworldly conviction. "Show them that you are an existence not to be underestimated."
As if guided by her words, Viktor's mind traversed the landscape of his past, revisiting the moments of agony he had endured at the hands of those who had wronged him.
The memories surged like a tide, engulfing him in a sea of anger, betrayal, and hurt.
"But Viktor, you must remember that Malphas grows stronger with each life he consumes," Elara's voice held a somber note of caution. "So, refrain from taking their lives. For I do not want Malphas to consume you. You must control Malphas, not the other way around."
Viktor's thoughts were consumed by the allure of vengeance, the shadows of retribution dancing before his eyes, eclipsing all else.
In that moment, consequences ceased to matter. The weight of responsibility and ethical concerns fell away as he contemplated the path before him.
Viktor accepted the gift that was offered to him, the promise of vengeance eclipsing any reservations he might have had.
The potency of Malphas's power, the potential consequences — none of it held importance in the face of the fervent hope and the tantalizing specter of retribution.
With conviction in his heart, he allowed himself to be consumed by the allure of his long-suppressed desires.
The thirst for justice, the yearning to prove his worth, eclipsed any concerns about the entity that stood before him, waiting to be unleashed.
"Kneel vor'kroni mekthar... Kneel, vor'kroni younghar shalakak zothkhar damar.... Kneel vor'kroni mekthar, vor'kroni raethar yoqthar vyndar!"
Whispering with mystical power into Viktor's ear, Elara's words resonated with an ethereal energy that seemed to penetrate his very soul.
As her words took hold, she bestowed her final touch upon her new servant, a touch that transcended the physical realm and delved into the realm of the profound.
A profound, unforgettable kiss was pressed upon Viktor's lips, a sensation that imprinted itself upon every molecule constituting his body.
It was a kiss that carried a myriad of emotions – power, desire, guidance, and a promise of transformation.
In that single kiss, Viktor felt a surge of energy coursing through him, like a river of ancient wisdom and otherworldly strength.
In the blink of an eye, Viktor's consciousness returned to its vessel. The world around him swirled in a dizzying display of colors and sensations, as if he was being woven back into the fabric of reality.
He awoke with a disorienting jolt, his senses readjusting to the physical realm.
The aftermath of the transcendent experience left him in a state of both awe and bewilderment.
His thoughts raced as he attempted to make sense of what had transpired.
The transition had been swift, a seamless fusion of consciousness and corporeality. Yet, as he struggled to reconcile the surreal with the tangible, one thing remained clear: he had been touched by something beyond the ordinary.
As his vision cleared and his surroundings came into focus, Viktor found himself in his small, cluttered room once again.
His body felt heavy, as if it had undergone a profound transformation. The room itself seemed charged with an energy that crackled in the air, an aura of mystique lingering like an afterimage of a forgotten dream.
The experience had been vivid, more real than any dream he had ever known. Yet, despite the vividness of it all, a sense of skepticism gnawed at the edges of his mind.
Could it truly have happened?
Or was it a mere product of his imagination, a manifestation of his deepest desires and fears?
His contemplation was abruptly interrupted as his gaze was drawn to the wall across the room.
There, amidst the flickering candlelight, a large and ominous silhouette adorned the surface.
It was a shadowy figure, one that seemed to stretch and contort, defying the laws of reality.
"I-It is..." his voice trembled, a mixture of awe and disbelief intermingling as he stared at the imposing image before him.
The figure exuded an aura of malevolence, a chilling presence that both fascinated and frightened him.
It was a stark reminder of the power that now resided within him, a power that he could scarcely comprehend.
The room seemed to pulse with an otherworldly energy, as if it held secrets that were on the cusp of revelation.
And in that moment, Viktor realized that his life had taken an unexpected turn, propelling him into a realm of mysticism and darkness that he could neither fully grasp nor escape.
***