The words hung in the air like holy light breaking through storm clouds.
Then silence.
For a moment, everything stopped.
Emeron's eyes widened—as if waking up from a nightmare. His voice was small. Barely human.
"…What was I doing?"
He looked down at his hands.
"…Did I… become the kind of person I hated?"
His legs faltered beneath him. His monstrous form wavered, black mana flickering with uncertainty.
"I tried to kill them," he whispered, horrified. "They're just kids… seventeen, eighteen…"
But the power inside him roared again, dark and wild, like a beast caged too long.
He gritted his teeth, tears still streaming.
"No—stop—I… I won't…!"
It was weaker now, but it still held him. Still fought for control.
His body launched forward again—claws against Luca's blades—but it wasn't a clean strike.
It was desperate. Splintered.
A man fighting not to win, but to lose.
To be freed.
Luca staggered under the blow—but he didn't retreat.
He saw it clearly now.
