The satisfaction he used to feel from those victories had been replaced by something darker.
Something more… empty.
'What the hell's happening to me?'
He wondered and wondered, his brow furrowing in frustration.
A brief flicker of doubt crossed his mind—just a moment of clarity, a memory of the man he used to be, the man who had fought for something more than just revenge.
He remembered the first time he and Mira had taken up arms against the Red Demons, not out of hatred, but out of necessity.
Out of duty.
They had fought to protect the innocent.
They had fought for a cause.
But now…
That flicker of doubt was snuffed out almost as soon as it appeared, smothered by the cold, unfeeling numbness that had crept into his soul.
He shook his head, angry at himself for even questioning it.
This was the only way.
He was doing what had to be done.
What they both had to do.
