The worst part was the agonizing uncertainty. Was his will to survive his own, or was it the instinct of a body corrupted by Vorenza? Falling from a cliff, he would find himself instinctively shooting out webs to catch himself, an action born of a physical instinct that warred with his emotional despair. He was no longer a man; he was a tool, a puppet, forever bound to a life he no longer wanted.
Walking into the territory of a stronger beast, Chief found himself, almost on autopilot, killing it. His mind was a haze of madness, and he wandered aimlessly, a creature without purpose, until one night, everything changed.
He continued his walk under the cold gaze of the moon, just like any other day. All of a sudden, the anguished roar of Vorenza ripped through his mind. A wave of calm relief washed over his body and soul, and for a brief, joyous moment, the idea that he was finally free took hold.
