The Holy Spirit looked at the group with an empty gaze, unsure what he should do. He felt angry, disappointed, and even frustrated. But who was he going to blame?
"This is all my fault."
It was definitely his fault. He had underestimated them, letting that cloaked kid persona help them and even tolerate some of Alastor's attitude without making their life difficult.
The Holy Spirit did not like that one bit.
"Screw this!" enraged, he ripped the cloak, the noise of the fabric tearing made him flinch.
But he did not care. He did not want this cloak anymore, he wanted despair, destruction, and chaos.
His eyes were turning into bloodshed as he looked at it, "I'm hungry."
He was hungry. His craving started, and the Holy Spirit of Despair finally wanted a release.