In Torras' mind, the flashing memories gradually approached their end until everything froze at one certain time point.
He was sitting in a dark cave. His skinny, emaciated body had collapsed on the ground. His body slowly bloated and decayed until there were only his bones left…
"I'm Torras. I'm… dead?" Torras realized something and widened his eyes.
Strangely, more memories came back to him.
The regret and ruefulness of dying a sorrowful death made him mad. Year after year, he roamed around the dark island while hunting after everyone that somehow ended up there.
Each time he was done with clearing out the island, he would return to his grave and wait for more intruders.
Until he met with this particular man who was a lot more powerful than him.
"I think he killed me… Wait, then what am I now?" Torras looked around in confusion. "That gun… He had a strange gun that ended my accursed form. Or did he?"
"Can you hear me?"