"N-no… no… need more… more…"
Arius wandered through the dimly lit corridors of the academy, his footsteps echoing against the cold stone walls. His head hung low, his whitish silver hair disheveled, his eyes sunken and hollow.
He muttered to himself, his lips twitching as incoherent whispers filled his mind, seeping into every corner of his consciousness like an insidious poison.
"Weak... pathetic... failure..."
The words twisted around his thoughts like a vice, squeezing tighter with every step he took.
"Dustan... you failed to kill him. How disgraceful."
Arius gritted his teeth, his hands trembling at his sides.
He could still remember the way Dustan had humiliated him—the way he had stood over him in victory, the smirk on his face.
The shame, the rage... it boiled inside him, festering like a wound that refused to heal.
"You need more power."
Yes. Power. That was the only way.
