—Hahaha! Go my servant! Kill those people!
Hearing the zealous voice in his mind, Lucien scoffed in thought:
'Why should I listen to you?'
The voice was slightly puzzled;
—I'm your mind, you should listen to me. The producer of your thoughts.
Lucien sighs, taking a sit on the coffin, watching the chaos unfold before him
'Thoughts don't come from the mind, rather the soul. The soul produces thoughts, the mind stores, and the body acts on these thoughts.'
—...what?!
'Although, souls don't die, yours is closer to extinction. Your thoughts are over the place, making you insane, because you don't have a mind to keep them.
I now know why these guys are unable to stand the madness.'
—Shut up! I'll destroy you!
The pain in Lucien's mind intensified. The headache was enough to make a person roll on the ground in pain, but the young man endured for an hour. He is in no rush to help the others.
