Stone lay sprawled on the cracked floor, the cold biting through his skin, crawling into his bones. Every breath was a rasping betrayal, shallow, ragged. Limbs refused to obey, heavy as molten iron, locked in their prison of paralysis. His mind screamed, and his mouth betrayed him with silence.
Ben's shadow fell over him, dark and oppressive. His eyes, black fire behind calm masks, seared Stone's soul. Every twitch, every trembling motion was cataloged, dissected. Years of envy, fury, and obsession crystallized in that look.
"You always thought you were untouchable," Ben's voice hissed, wet with venom. "Better than me at everything. Smarter. Faster. Golden-boy perfect."
Stone tried to speak. Nothing emerged. His body was a traitor. Memories crashed against him—laughter, victories, bruised knuckles, shared dreams of heroism. The brotherhood that had once existed now lay in shards, jagged and irreparable.
Ben leaned closer. Stone could feel the heat of him, smell the bitter tang of hatred, the faint iron tang of blood yet spilled.
"I hated you for it," Ben said. "Every. Single. Day."
Stone's chest tightened. "Ben… we were brothers…"
Ben laughed, dry and hollow, the sound scraping against Stone's ears like broken glass. "Brothers? You didn't even know the meaning of the word."
He rose. Fluid. Predatory. His gaze fixed on Stone's mother, frozen under the cruel potion's grip, eyes wide, soul trapped in glass.
Ben crouched beside her. Fingers tangled in her hair, pulling back her head with savage precision. Stone's heart leapt, a hammer of dread, but the cage of paralysis kept him mute, immobile, helpless.
"Ben, please!" he rasped. Tears scalded the edges of his vision. "Don't…"
The world had stopped hearing.
Steel kissed air, then flesh. Cold, merciless.
Her head rolled. Blood sprayed, a grotesque brushstroke across the floor.
Her body slumped, lifeless. Then the darkness came alive—embers, sparks, a void that swallowed her until nothing remained. Silence became a predator.
Stone sobbed, raw and ragged, each breath a rasping cry that trembled through his chest.
"No… Mom…"
Ben stepped back, blade dripping. Expression empty. Void-filled.
"Too weak to protect her," he whispered. "Just like you."
Stone tried to move. Limbs refused. Pain radiated in shards.
Ben's gaze snapped down. Fury, grief, obsession—a storm coiled into one human form.
"You think you're better than me? That you deserved everything?"
Stone whispered, faint, fragile: "We could've been brothers…"
Ben's laughter cut him down like a blade. Hollow, bitter, final. "Not when you always outshined me."
Boot slammed into ribs. Pain exploded, a white-hot flare through Stone's torso.
Fist followed. Crushing. Unrelenting.
"Die knowing how much I hated you," Ben growled.
Stone clawed at him, fingers scraping, fists pounding in futile defiance. Blood blossomed beneath nails.
Ben stumbled—just a flicker—but recovered. Eyes ablaze. Blade thirsting.
"Not good enough."
Steel sank into chest, again, again, again. Silent screams radiated from every nerve. Every strike was a lifetime of rage, betrayal, and grief condensed into a single moment.
"Die!"
Breath slowed. Vision blurred. One last tear slid down his cheek, tracing a frozen line of despair.
Silence devoured him.
Ben looked down at the ruin, at the man who had once been a brother, now ash and shadow. Empty. Cold. He turned. Did not look back.
Stone's body shimmered, sparks flickering like dying stars as his soul unraveled, untethered from flesh.
Ben's voice, low, a ritual, an incantation whispered over destruction:
Flames erupted. Walls screamed. Fire swallowed everything, roaring with life, with death, with judgment. Nothing remained.
**********
Later. Cold chamber. Candlelight flickered, shadows dancing across stone walls.
"Mission complete," Ben said. Voice sharp. Steady.
The council murmured approval, faces masks of shadow.
A slow, dark smile curved Ben's lips.
"Stone… is dead."