Inside the darkened office at Royal HQ, Ethan sat slumped in his chair, his chest heaving. The silence was heavy, broken only by his jagged breathing. The cold, ruthless mask he had worn moments ago had cracked, leaving behind a searing agony in his temples.
"What... what the hell was that, Crul? Why did I do that?" Ethan said.
[Those are the side effects of consuming the Black Flower of Resentment, Master. The flower is a concentrated mass of negative emotions—pain, hatred, and trauma. It amplifies your own darkest impulses. I did not anticipate that your psyche would be this unstable,] Crul said.
Ethan gripped the edge of his desk, his knuckles turning white. "I felt like I was watching someone else use my voice. I wanted to hurt them. I wanted to see them break," Ethan said.
