The world around Nyx was a blur of agony. His body, once a vessel of will and defiance, had become a ruin. His skin, burned and charred from the acidic monster's digestive tract, hung in ragged strips. His muscles, especially on the right side of his face, were scorched to the point that they no longer resembled the human form. The once smooth flesh now looked like a grotesque mask, pulled tight and distorted. His left leg was an even worse sight his bones were exposed, the skin torn open, and every step sent jolts of pain through his spine.
Nyx had never known pain like this. Each movement felt like his very existence was being torn apart, piece by piece. His breath came in short, jagged bursts as he struggled to push forward, every step feeling like a millennia of suffering. His nerves felt raw and his mind was on the verge of collapse. He had nothing left but the will to keep moving.
The harsh light of day shone down on him, but it did little to warm his tortured body. His muscles twitched with every step, and his vision swam in and out of focus. But he had to keep going. There was no other choice.
He limped forward, dragging his broken body, and through the haze of pain and despair, something caught his attention. It was a faint shimmer on the ground something that glowed softly, almost imperceptibly. He stumbled toward it, his mind barely able to focus on what he was doing.
A healing potion.
His hand reached out shakily, trembling with exhaustion, and grabbed the vial. The liquid inside was a pale green, faintly glowing with an ethereal light. His body screamed in protest, but he uncorked the bottle and drank its contents without hesitation. The moment the potion touched his tongue, a searing warmth spread through his body. It was as if fire coursed through his veins, and for a moment, Nyx thought he might explode from the inside out.
The pain was indescribable. His skin, already scarred and damaged, began to burn with renewed intensity. His muscles twitched and spasmed, and his bones felt as if they were being broken and reforged. It felt like every nerve in his body was being rewired, reassembled, torn apart, and pieced back together. His mind teetered on the edge of sanity, the pain so intense he could hardly breathe, let alone think.
The sensation was like nothing he had ever experienced. It was as if his very cells were being torn asunder and rebuilt, his body remade from the inside out. His nerves screamed in agony, and yet, in the midst of it, there was a strange, almost alien sense of healing. His left leg, which had been a broken shell of itself, began to feel different. The skin began to reform, slowly at first, then more rapidly. The bones were being mended, the muscles reattached, but the process was torturous. Every cell was rebuilt from nothing, and the pain came with it a deep, unrelenting torment that made Nyx wish he had never touched the potion at all.
But then, just as he thought he could endure no more, it stopped. His body froze for a moment, and the burning pain dulled into a deep, aching throb. His bones felt whole again, and his muscles, though still sore, were functional. The damage was still there he could still feel the scars and the pain of his injuries but at least now he could move again. His vision cleared, and he stood shakily on his feet.
But even with the healing potion, something inside him had broken that no elixir could fix.
He wiped his face with his hand, trying to focus, trying to shake off the lingering effects of the pain. He had a job to do. He had a promise to keep.
With a grunt, Nyx staggered forward, his injured leg dragging behind him. He had to find his friend, Jarek. The man who had shown him kindness in a world full of cruelty. The one who had talked about his family the children he loved so dearly, the wife he had promised to protect.
The journey was long, and Nyx's body felt like it was falling apart with each passing step. But he kept going. His destination was clear, and nothing could stop him now not the pain, not the exhaustion, and certainly not the world that had turned its back on him.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity of dragging his broken body through the wilderness, Nyx arrived at the address. He stood at the threshold, his heart heavy in his chest, hoping that somehow, against all odds, Jarek's family was still alive. He tried to ignore the horrible sense of dread gnawing at his insides as he approached the door.
The house was eerily quiet. Too quiet.
Nyx's heart pounded in his chest as he entered. His breath hitched in his throat as his eyes scanned the rooms, searching for any sign of life. But it was all too still.
Then he found them.
Jarek's wife, her body mutilated beyond recognition. His two daughters, their lifeless forms sprawled across the floor. His three sons, torn apart and discarded like mere refuse. The stench of death filled the room, and Nyx felt the bile rise in his throat.
He stumbled back, his body shaking uncontrollably. His vision blurred, and his mind seemed to spin in a dizzying circle. His stomach twisted with the overwhelming wave of grief and despair that washed over him.
Jarek's family was gone.
The world felt empty. The crushing weight of loss pressed down on him like an unbearable force. Nyx sank to his knees, staring at the scene before him, unable to process the sheer horror of it all. His friend his only friend was gone. His family had been slaughtered without mercy. There was nothing left.
Tears streamed down Nyx's face, but there was no relief in them. Only a hollow, aching emptiness. He had failed them. Failed Jarek. Failed everyone who had ever trusted him.
The pain of his injuries, the burning sensation in his muscles, was nothing compared to the agony in his chest. He was empty. Hollow.
The rage that had driven him before was gone, replaced by an overwhelming sadness, a profound grief that threatened to swallow him whole.
He couldn't even find the strength to bury them properly.
All he could do was sit there, surrounded by the death of those who had never deserved such a fate. And as the days passed in that broken house, Nyx's heart grew colder, darker, until there was no trace left of the man who had once cared. Only a hollow shell remained.
And the world kept turning, indifferent to his suffering, indifferent to everything.