[: 3rd POV :]
Daniel stood frozen before the capsule, eyes locked onto the grotesque being within an amalgamation of so many lives, of so many souls.
The single eye stared back at him, its tears thick and unceasing.
The voices, all of them, layered and overlapping, continued to beg softly, "Please… k-kill me… It hurts… it hurts so much…"
He had made his decision.
But it wasn't one he could make lightly.
He took a step forward, each movement heavier than the last.
His heart thundered in his chest as his trembling hand slowly reached out, summoning the ethereal blade — his Class Skill: Sword of Final Rule.
A blade of translucent light, neither divine nor demonic, materialised in his hand.
It hummed with still judgment, resonating with the finality of origin and end.
A weapon that struck not flesh, but essence — a sword that reached into the very foundation of existence.
