Chương 82: Reverend Insanity [part 5]

**This chapter is only for readers 18+ and contains disturbing scenes. Please read it at your own risk.**

**ENEMIES' POV**

Unlike in fantasy, where light and "heroes" always triumph against all odds, in reality, such things do not happen.

In the real world, evil can prevail, and hope can be snuffed out like a candle in the wind.

The group members had fought bravely, driven by determination and hope to stop a threat beyond imagination, but reality had been unforgiving.

Their final stand had ended in a brutal slaughter, a massacre with no chance of redemption.

As my final roar echoed through the room, every corner seemed to vibrate under the weight of my dark power.

The flickering green flames cast distorted shadows on the walls, creating a surreal, almost infernal atmosphere.

The bodies of my enemies lay scattered like broken dolls, marked by mortal wounds that extinguished every whisper of life, leaving behind only silence and desolation.

The air was heavy, laden with the scent of blood and burnt metal.

Each breath was accompanied by dark, dense vapor, mixing with the atmosphere like a poisonous miasma.

My iridescent armor glowed with a sinister light, my red eyes still fixed on the remnants of the battle.

I was a creature of pure destruction, an entity that thrived on the suffering and chaos I had created.

With slow, deliberate steps, I moved through the room.

Every movement was an act of supremacy, a further demonstration of my unchallenged dominance.

There were no more obstacles, no force that could stop me.

My transformation was complete, and with it, my power had grown beyond all imaginable limits.

I approached the young man who, shortly before his end, had spoken of hope. His body lay still, his face marked by the agony of the final moments.

His words, filled with determination and faith in humanity's ability to overcome difficulties, were now reduced to an empty echo.

In that final moment, he had realized that light does not always triumph, that darkness can be too great to be defeated.

I continued to watch him, continually, constantly, until my gaze became full of disgust.

I approached the young man's body, the last to fall under my fury.

His face, once animated by unwavering hope, was now twisted in an expression of pain and despair.

His eyes, open and empty, seemed to stare at me with a silent question, a question that would never be answered.

The acrid smell of blood and burnt metal pervaded the air, mingling with the poisonous miasma emanating from my very presence.

The atmosphere was suffused with a palpable, oppressive darkness.

I slowly bent over him, staring at his face with an expression of disdain.

Every trace of the hope he had tried to inspire was now gone, consumed by my devastating power.

His last words, a pathetic appeal to resistance, still echoed as an empty void in my mind.

I felt disgust growing within me, a deep contempt for his naive faith in humanity and the light.

With a slow and deliberate movement, I reached out, my clawed fingers brushing against his cold skin.

"I hate heroes," I hissed, my voice a dark shadow filling the silence.

Every word was laden with visceral rancor, an ire that could not be appeased.

"Their false light, their empty promises of salvation... all an illusion."

My words dissolved into the air, dense and heavy like smoke.

In a gruesome and macabre gesture, I plunged my claws into his chest, tearing away the last vestiges of his humanity.

The sound of ripping flesh and cracking bones filled the room, a sinister chorus accompanying my action.

I pulled out the heart, still dripping with blood, holding it before my bright red eyes.

The organ throbbed weakly, the last vestige of life fading in my hands.

With a twisted grin, I threw the heart to the ground, stomping on it forcefully.

"This is the fate of heroes," I said, my voice full of disdain and disillusionment. "They are nothing but slaughtered meat, useless sacrifices on an altar of lies."

The blood splattered on the floor, a dark stain spreading like a shadow.

As I stood up, I felt the core's power pulsing within me, an unstoppable force coursing through me.

My body, wrapped in black, iridescent armor, reflected the green flames with a terrifying and macabre beauty.

I was the triumph of darkness, an entity that knew no mercy or remorse.

I was the end of all hope, the destroyer of dreams and illusions.

I walked away from the lifeless bodies, my steps slow and confident.

The room, once a theater of desperate resistance, was now a mausoleum of death and destruction.

The walls still trembled under the impact of my power, unable to contain the chaos I had unleashed.

Every breath was an act of dominance, an affirmation of my supremacy.

With one last glance at the remains of my enemies, I declared my final contempt.

"This is the fate of heroes," I whispered, my voice an eerie echo lost in the growing darkness.

"Only dust and ashes."

My laughter, a chilling and unnatural sound, echoed through the room, marking the final triumph of darkness over every hope of light.

As the darkness closed around me, a sense of cold satisfaction gripped me.

I was the triumph of darkness, the ultimate predator that had annihilated all resistance.

The world would be mine, and no one could oppose my will.

With one last, terrible roar, I declared my dominion.

I was an entity of pure devastation, ready to cast my shadow over the entire world.

This was the reality: sometimes, evil wins, and light goes out.

In that moment, I was the embodiment of that cruel truth, an eternal reminder that in the struggle between light and darkness, there is not always a happy ending.

My laughter, a chilling and unnatural sound, echoed through the empty room, marking the final triumph of darkness over any hope of redemption.

As my chilling laughter faded into the air, the ensuing silence was palpable, a deafening void filled only by the sound of my heavy steps and the metallic scraping of my claws on the floor.

Every echo of life, every hope of salvation, had been crushed under the weight of my fury.

The room, now a shrine to my triumph, seemed to reverberate with a dark and evil energy, a testament to the chaos I had unleashed.

The bodies of my enemies lay around me, now reduced to mere carcasses.

Their expressions were frozen in masks of terror and pain, a perpetual memory of their futile resistance.

The walls, stained with blood and scorched from the intensity of the battles, seemed to whisper tales of despair and defeat.

My gaze settled on these remains, and a sense of cold satisfaction filled me.

Every breath I took was a further affirmation of my superiority.

I felt the dark energy of the core pulsating within me, a primordial force filling me with absolute power.

I had become the embodiment of destruction, a presence that would bring terror and ruin wherever I went.

The entire world would have to kneel before me, recognize my power, and fear my shadow.

My mind, shrouded in the fog of darkness, contemplated the future.

Cities would fall, nations would be annihilated, and every trace of hope would be erased.

I was the end of dreams, the destroyer of illusions, an eternal shadow that would cover the world's light.

There would be no heroes, no redemption.

Only dust, ashes, and a reign of terror.

As I walked away from the massacre's remains, a sinister calm enveloped me.

There was no remorse, no hesitation.

My existence had become an inexorable march toward annihilation.

Every step I took carried a promise of destruction, a guarantee that nothing would remain untouched under my hand.

I was the judge and executioner, the unstoppable force that would rewrite the rules of existence.

The darkness, once seeming to be an adversary, was now my ally.

It enveloped me, nourished me, gave me strength.

I felt its power flow through me, a torrent of energy fueling every fiber of my being.

And in that fusion with the darkness, I found my true nature, my ultimate purpose.

With one last look at the room's remains and the bodies of my enemies, I turned towards the future I would shape with my will.

And as the darkness finally closed around me, enveloping me like a cloak of shadows, a final thought crystallized in my mind: sometimes, evil wins, and light goes out.

And I was the embodiment of that cruel truth, a living monument to the fact that in the struggle between light and darkness, there is not always a happy ending.

My laughter, a distorted and inhuman sound, echoed once more in the empty room, marking the beginning of a new era of darkness and destruction.