Benjamin thought deeply to himself.
'Empty myself… Empty myself…'
But the words felt wrong in his chest, like swallowing something incredibly bitter.
'I don't think I like that very much. I feel like I want the heaviness to stick always… in reminder of the pains I felt. Or maybe… I'm just too scared to confront those burdens…?'
He finished his thought and drew in a long, slow breath again.
Then exhaled.
The air left him in a noiseless rush, carrying with it the first threads of his own magic.
It poured out like smoke escaping an opened room; gray-white tendrils curling from his skin, his mouth, and his fingertips.
The released magic power mingled with the magic already present in the atmosphere, twisting and tangling until the boundary between Benjamin and the world began to blur.
At that moment he became something else; A concept rather than a human. More of a weightless specter.
In doing so, he effectively "died"—at least in concept.
