"Souls are sacred."

Krazan watched in awe as his mother traced a circular pattern around her chest. Underneath skin and flesh lay a glow of pure brilliance, so incandescent that it nearly brought him to tears. At eight years of age, his Soul Sight was just starting to develop, and he was still marveling at the wonders that had been hidden from him all his life. While souls resembled orbs of mana, they were so much more. A hundred rainbows sparkling in unison wouldn't have been able to match a sliver of their beauty.

"This is who I am," his mother continued, ruffling his hair. "Thoughts, memories, emotions – everything that makes up the essence of my being is contained within my soul. And when I pass on, my soul will join Argath's Hallowed Halls, just as all who lived before me."

Krazan glanced down at his chest, eyeing the orb of mana residing within. His soul was no less brilliant than his mother's, yet for some reason, the sight didn't strike him with awe. It seemed far less interesting when he examined his own soul instead of another's. He attempted to force himself to recognize its grandeur, but it felt like trying to get excited over leftover claw trimmings.

"Mother," he began, thinking hard. "Does Rielle have a soul as well?"

"Of course she does. Every living creature possesses a soul." His mother smirked, and her voice grew teasing. "Haven't you been paying attention to your schooling?"

Krazan definitely did not pout at that. "I have been! It's just..." He frowned. "Rielle got her Soul Sight a month ago, but she doesn't talk about it. And Rielle talks about everything."

Overcome by desire, Krazan glanced outside his home's window, soaking in the sight of thousands of souls walking along the streets of Magnar City. This time, he really was brought to tears, passion running down his cheeks in streams of wetness. How had he ever thought that anything was 'beautiful' before that very moment? This, right here, was what the word truly defined.

"It's amazing," he whispered. "No one talks about it. Why not?"

His mother didn't answer. After a few seconds passed, Krazan turned around to find that she was lost in thought, her face as rigid as a stone mask. Krazan fidgeted, wondering if he should apologize – and if so, what for – when his mother finally opened her mouth to speak.

wnjGETOUTf)(Jj)(@#FJkerN(*HRJoiwejGETOUTq#*(FU)(#Q$jo*#14fjQK3j-q34(jGETOUTyOINF!*JQ#$)(J3f9$fj3qrkjfnGETOUT9-q*$F_

"Souls are sacred," she repeated, much more seriously. "Remember that word, Krazan. 'Sacred' is not the same as 'beautiful'. Beauty is to be cherished and enjoyed, while sacredness is to be protected. Answer me this – what would you do if someone extended their claws and tried to rip your heart out?"

Krazan jerked back in horror at the mental image. "I, I," he stuttered. "I don't know. Run?"

She nodded. "Now what if they tried to pull out your brain? Or pluck the limbs from your body, one-by-one, like tearing the wings from a butterfly?"

Nausea welled up within Krazan's throat. "Run! I'd run!"

"Good." His mother leaned forward, eyes dark. "Now imagine you tried to run, and they caught you anyway. Imagine they performed all those actions at once, visiting their sickest desires upon you. Imagine your pain, terror, and helplessness. Now multiply your feelings by a hundred-fold." She poked a claw at his chest. "That is what it means to lose your soul."

Krazan froze, processing her words, although it didn't take him long. As horrifying as his mother's story was, he'd seen bigger and stronger children steal trinkets from weaker ones plenty of times. Souls were beautiful, so naturally, people would want more of them.

"How do I protect my soul?" he asked, insistent. While his own soul wasn't nearly as entrancing as other people's, the thought of losing it inspired an instinctual sense of dread within him. He couldn't let that happen. No matter how much someone else begged for it.

"You run," she answered, drawing him into an embrace. "If someone tries to take your soul from you, then you run, understand? Find someone who can help you."

"What if there is no one?"

"Then fight back. Kill them."

'What if I can't win?"

His mother paused, as if unsure of how much to say, before looking him straight in the eyes and answering directly. "Then find some way to end your life, my dear boy. Let your soul pass on to Argath's Hallowed Halls rather than allowing it to fall into the clutches of a Soul Eater. Otherwise, an eternity of torment awaits you."

--

"DEATH TO THE MURDERER!"

"DEATH TO THE DEFILER!"

"DEATH!"

"DEATH!"

"DEATH!"

Krazan joined the crowd in their cheers. His small, seventeen-year old voice was barely a drop in the bucket compared to the uproarious tidal wave resounding across the execution grounds. Hundreds of Fiends were in attendance, and Krazan knew that tens of thousands more would be listening via Message Crystal announcements relayed across the nation. It wasn't often that the High Soulseer commandeered Fiend territory's entire communications network like this, but the occasion warranted the excess.

A Soul Eater was being brought to justice.

Krazan braved a look at the abomination, its limbs shackled to a raised podium in the center of the road. Waves of revulsion pulsed through his core as he stared, transfixed. The Soul Eater's soul was defiled beyond measure; instead of the beautiful shimmering that Krazan was ever entranced by, it appeared blackened, filthy, as if it had been dragged over leagues of fetid muck.

How can a creature like that even exist? Krazan pondered. Wouldn't their soul collapse? The answer, apparently, was no. Far from being on the verge of death, the Soul Eater stood tall and weathered his verbal lashings with an impassive expression. He seemed...bored, almost. Like none of this was a surprise, let alone a concern.

Krazan hated him. He hated him more than he thought it possible to hate something. Souls were sacred, and this loathsome aberration had devoured them without a care. Eleven innocent lives, subjected to the worst sort of torture imaginable. Whatever punishment was about to be inflicted on the Soul Eater was a fraction of what he truly deserved.

The crowd's bellowing intensified as an executioner arrived on the scene. He walked forward with pride, holding a blunt, jagged-edged sword as he approached the podium. His weapon was ill-suited for anything more difficult than trimming weeds; it would take numerous, painful swings to properly separate the Soul Eater's head from his body.

Which was exactly the point.

Krazan raised his fist into the air, shouting at the top of his lungs. "DEATH TO THE MURDERER! DEATH TO THE DEFILER! DEATH! DEATH! DEA-"

His words died in his throat as the Soul Eater turned to stare straight at him.

awnkWONTSURRENDERfjMQWFJljfq9)@#$R(134<$fj0WONTSURRENDER9!Kr0c(!kffpldwk)(!$-kfeldk!$([email protected]#$!$(1!$FJ!WONTSURRENDER#$FJ#EKj019JEFDKQDMVNHVTY*)$(09

Their eyes locked, just for a moment, and in that passing glance, Krazan was struck by a disquieting realization. Despite the indignities heaped on the Soul Eater, despite the drawn-out punishment that was seconds away from being carried out, he didn't regret a single thing. Given the chance, he'd do it all again.

And as Krazan resumed his cheering, he couldn't help but wonder why. Why would the Eater go that far? Just what about a soul was so thoroughly enticing?

What did one taste like?

--

"I'd like to taste a soul," Rielle happily chirped.

Krazan let out a strangled gasp. He swung his head around frantically, checking to see if anyone was nearby, breathing a sigh of relief after confirming that they were alone. "Have you taken leave of your senses?" he hissed, shaking her by the shoulders. "Souls are sacred! You know this!"

"I wasn't referring to a Fiend soul, silly," she replied, as if that were obvious. "An animal soul would do just fine. That'd be plenty to satisfy our curiosity without harming anyone, don't you agree?"

Krazan's arms trembled. In the twenty-six years he'd known Rielle, her suggestions had shocked him more times than he could count. The girl's thoughts always seemed to walk a path two steps to the left of normal society. It kept life interesting, if nothing else. This, however, wasn't merely an idle flight of fancy – it was the kind of thinking that got a person executed.

"No," he stated, brooking no argument. "I won't allow it. Animal souls are sacred as well, and I don't want to grow accustomed to the feeling of eating them." He narrowed his eyes. "And just did you mean by satisfying 'our' curiosity?"

Rielle gave him an airy smile. "You can't hide your innermost thoughts from me, Kraz," she laughed. "I've known you far too long. I can see the longing that lurks underneath your face whenever you stare at souls." Her eyes widened by a fraction. "You want to know, don't you? Well, so do I. What's wrong with a little experimentation?"

Krazan averted his gaze. Speaking honestly, he...couldn't deny her accusation. He was curious. How couldn't he be? There was no taboo greater than soul eating, and people were invariably drawn to things outside their purview. Krazan would bet all his savings that many Fiends were just as curious as he was.

Yes, that had to be right. He wasn't abnormal. He was a good person.

Sensing weakness, Rielle continued her assault. It took a good hour of poking and prodding, but soon enough, Krazan found himself sitting opposite from Rielle, each of them with a live egror in hand. The tiny furred rodents squirmed in panic, sensing that something vile was about to befall them.

"This is our last chance to back out," Krazan whispered, feeling like he was standing on the edge of a precipice. "I won't tell anyone. We can leave today behind us and pretend as if it never happened."

Rielle hesitated, her expression wavering. If Krazan had pressed her in that moment, she might have – for once in her life – capitulated to logic and good reasoning. Everything that followed could have been avoided.

lizwqhnfzGOBACKqwrklf;qj43(#GOBACK@$)U#[email protected]GOBACKMLKJdnewOAWGOBACKJQW)02q#1pokGOBACKecnRN*R)vuevGOBACKnfdjvnf*(#H#*DHd_0jHDBGOBACKdkbDC(#N#oviuenhviu2uocGOBACKghk3j4nhgiu3figf3hGOBACK5khq38gh13h9Y($Y#983GOBACK2hm342t32m-x2m923

He stayed quiet. After a few seconds, Rielle shook her head and grinned, although it looked forced. "Sorry, Kraz," she apologized. "It's just in my nature to be a bit too curious."

You have nothing to apologize for, Krazan thought, tightly gripping his egror. I'm the same.

In unison, both Fiends dragged a glowing gray claw down their chests, splitting them open. The wounds neither hurt nor bled; if anything, they appeared hollow on the inside. Distantly, Krazan realized that they'd performed the action purely on instinct, without pre-existing knowledge of how to eat a soul.

It had been as simple as breathing.

The egrors shrieked into terror as shimmering gray descended upon them. Krazan inserted his claws into his egror's chest, and with a crescendo of rising mania, pulled. The rodent fell motionless and silent as a brilliant orb of mana was ripped from its body. Any guilt Krazan may have felt was swept aside by the sight of the tiny soul in his hands. It wasn't nearly as beautiful as a Fiend's soul, but it was still a soul, and now it was HIS. Adrenaline surging through his veins, Krazan tenderly placed the egror's essence into his chest.

Immediately, his body was wracked with shivers from head to toe. Bliss. It was pure bliss. It was-

Gone.

Why was it gone?

Krazan stared down at his chest, his mood cratering when he noticed that the egror's soul had vanished, errant wisps of mana dissipating into the wind. Apparently, while his body could hold animal souls, they only lasted a few seconds before being expelled.

"That was insane," Rielle whispered, snapping Krazan out of his reverie. "And to think I used to claim that father's cooking was the best thing in the world." She let out a nervous laugh. "I suppose my standards have been raised."

Krazan didn't reply. He kept staring at his chest, overcome by an aching sensation of emptiness. That was...it? Just a brief and fleeting taste of perfection, and now he was supposed to return to the colorless mundanity of everyday life?

He couldn't accept that. Krazan's thoughts melted away, replaced solely with a deep certainty. Nothing else mattered, nothing else existed, except for him and his desire.

"Kraz? Are you okay?"

Rielle flinched as a pair of hungry eyes fixed on her. "What-"

His instincts roared.

--

[email protected](M42wlj2)9jrm23rowaj)923MFghhMONSTER[email protected]@[email protected]

Krazan stared over the edge of the rooftop, his body swaying like grass in a gentle breeze. The streets below beckoned him. He tried to cry, but it was like attempting to squeeze water from a stone. That felt like the greatest insult of all; now, more than any other time, is when he should have been able to shed tears. Things would never be the same again.

Rielle was dead.

But not gone. Her soul resided within his chest. Even now, it squirmed and writhed, desperate to escape. For the dozenth time, Krazan reached for his chest, extended a claw – and pulled away. He couldn't bring himself to release her.

It just felt so damn good.

As if he was sitting for a theater performance, Krazan watched the events of the day play out in his mind once more. Where had he gone wrong? What had been the final tipping point? Was it when Rielle suggested the egrors, or when he let his opportunity to deter her slip away?

Eventually, Krazan decided on his lack of willpower as the moment where everything turned from a mistake to a sin. Not when he tackled Rielle and devoured her soul, but what came after. While removing a soul killed its body in all instances, the result wasn't immediate if the body itself remained undamaged. It took ten minutes, give or take, to shut down entirely. That was ten minutes where Krazan could have returned Rielle's soul and brought his friend back from the brink of death.

He'd held her hand as the last of her warmth faded.

Abomination, Krazan thought, in a daze. That's what I've become. The edge of the rooftop was calling, inviting him to step forward. Yes. That's what Rielle would want. Justice for that which cannot be forgiven. My soul would be cleansed, and hers would pass on to Argath's Hallowed Halls.

It would set us both free.

Passive Skill Gained!

Name: Melancholy Resistance

Prerequisite: Experience a deep-seated, soul-crushing sadness.

Description: Allows you to get back on your feet more quickly.

...

...

...Was it really so wrong, though?

In the end, he'd only done what any Fiend was capable of. No one punished a bird for flying or a fish for swimming. Why would Argath have given his children the ability to eat souls if he didn't want them to use it? Everything that had happened was simply the logical endpoint of Krazan's existence as a Fiend.

Yes, that made sense. He wasn't abnormal. He'd done nothing wrong.

Nothing that felt this good, this natural, could be a sin.

"Hey! HEY! Don't jump!"

Mechanically, Krazan turned around. A panicked onlooker was approaching him from the other end of the rooftop, arms spread wide in a nonthreatening manner. "Oh thank the gods," they sighed, visibly relieved. "Just stay right there, okay? Whatever...whatever you're planning, it isn't worth it. Things will get better."

Krazan tilted his head. Slowly, he stepped towards the center of the roof, away from its edge. The onlooker beamed at him, looking about ready to wrap Krazan in a warm embrace. "Thank you," they said, their voice hoarse. "I've lost – never mind. It's not important. Can I help you? In any way?"

"Yes." His claws shone with a gray aura. "You can."

--

Krazan, now with so many birthdays behind him that he'd lost count, stood hesitant in front of a door. Beyond it lay two souls, ripe for the taking. He could sense their brilliance at a distance, now, no longer needing to physically observe a person in order to view their soul. It wasn't a Skill; rather, it was a sixth sense that had grown within him over the centuries, like an atrophied muscle regaining its strength through exercise.

He pressed his face against the door, soaking in the radiance that awaited mere inches away. An Elf and a Dragonkin, both high-leveled and Awakened. New tastes for a weary palette. Krazan trembled with anticipation, and the hundreds of souls that resided within his chest squirmed, as if preparing to welcome their new guests. So close, he thought, reaching for the doorknob. Need-

Krazan yanked his arm back, shame washing through him in a torrent. What the hell was he doing? These were heroes. They'd rescued innumerable lives by restoring Nevermore City and preventing the Black Wind. There were few people in the world who less deserved the fate he was about to inflict on them.

Walk away, Krazan ordered. Find someone else. Better yet, turn yourself in and face punishment for your crimes, like you should have done from the start. He took a step back, fighting the compulsion that dominated every facet of his life. For an instant, Krazan dared to hope that, this time, things would be different.

Of course, he already knew how this story ended. Unable to resist the clarion call of fresh souls, Krazan would enter the room. He would ambush two of Fiend territory's saviors. He would grasp the Elf's soul, relishing in the thrill of conquest.

And then he would fall. Defeated by the Dragonkin. It was an end that was long overdue – except she hadn't killed him, had she? Even that relief was denied to him.

[email protected]#$23fsaJUSTSTOP@02sMs2

"I don't think I'll ever be able to stop," Krazan replied, voice echoing across a formless void. He brought up the sum totality of his life, over nine hundred years of lived experience, and began to show it all again from the beginning. "I would say that I'm not strong enough to resist my nature, but..."

He paused, gulping. "Honestly? I don't want to stop." The admittance – something that he'd never said aloud – felt like a thunderclap to his core. "If I keep going, then I can always pretend that my actions were out of my control. Krazan, slave to his baseborn urges, a victim like any other. But if I someday gather up the willpower to hold back, then that means I could have stopped...so long ago...and that would mean..."

A ragged chuckle escaped unbidden from his throat. "No. No, no, no. That won't be my epitaph. I've sacrificed too much, too many, to let it all be for naught."

#)dkfuSAMEHEREw)@dl

Krazan examined the Elf's soul, floating at the other end of their shared infinity. Compared to the length of Krazan's life, the Elf's was meager, spanning less than half a century. With every second that passed, Krazan's memories squeezed tighter, suffocating the intruder with mounting fervor. The Elf's memories waned, flickering like a candlelight assailed by a hurricane.

"You can't possibly understand how any of this feels," Krazan seethed. "You, who were born under the auspices of a loving god, one who didn't shape you for the purpose of being an abomination. What right have you to judge me?"

[email protected]NOTJUDGEcs)(

"LIAR!" Krazan clenched his fist, and the Elf's soul crumpled inward. "EVEN MY OWN PEOPLE JUDGE ME! IGNORANT OF WHAT THEY COULD BECOME IF THEY MADE JUST ONE FUCKING MISTAKE!"

Memories flashed by in a hurry.

Krazan, swearing he would never steal a third soul, and breaking his promise within the week.

Krazan, lurking amongst the shadows, pilfering a Sinner's Shroud to hide his warped core.

Krazan, confessing to his mother, and securing her silence in the only guaranteed way.

Krazan, ripping.

Krazan, killing.

Krazan, devouring.

"They say that willpower is forged through suffering." An empty smile spread across the Soul Eater's face. "For nearly a millennia, I have lived with the weight of my sins and the depths of my failures. More than any living creature in this world, I understand tragedy in its highest form. And what of you?"

He clenched his other hand. The Elf's memories compressed once again, on the verge of being snuffed out. "I've seen the measure of your will. It is untempered. Lacking. You have not witnessed the truest horrors that life has to offer." Krazan gazed into the Elf's memories, his lips curling upwards into an ugly sneer. "Nothing special. Parents who should never have been parents. A common tale, one found across the land in every era. And you didn't even need to bear it for long – the Cataclysm resolved it for you."

Krazan paused, waiting for the Elf's soul to flare up with indignance, intending to capitalize on its distraction with a lethal counterstrike. But despite Krazan's barbs and the grinding pressure being applied to the Elf's soul, it didn't budge in the slightest, holding strong.

"You are merely prolonging your suffering," the Soul Eater stated. "The disparity of our lifespans is too great for you to bear this much longer." He adopted a soothing tone. "Give in. Allow yourself to rest. I promise that the end will be swift and painless."

NO.

It was a pure, unwavering note of defiance. From within the Elf's soul, points of light sprang forth, blinding Krazan with memories that were not his own.

The Elf, finding solace in the company of a young boy about his age.

The Elf, several years later, playing cards with a group of newfound friends.

The Elf, sitting beside a Human as they exchanged childhood stories.

The Elf, watching with his friends as one of their number sang a performance for them.

The Elf, drinking the night away in celebration with his friends, who he'd begun to think of as family.

The Elf, offering his support to a Dragonkin on the brink of despair.

There were countless more points of light, each one shining as brilliant as any soul. As he stared, awestruck, Krazan realized that those touchstones of memory were keeping the Elf's soul intact. Every point was like a diamond, mesmerizing and sturdy, unyielding in the face of oblivion. They wouldn't crack no matter how much pressure Krazan applied. Rather than drawing willpower from hardship, the Elf had summoned strength from the bonds he shared with his friends.

And as long as they were waiting for him, he would never break.

With a start, Krazan realized that the Elf's soul was suddenly next to him. The boy had used Krazan's lapse in concentration to slip past his confinement. The Soul Eater's confusion doubled when – instead of attacking – the Elf sent out a pulse of emotion.

Krazan drew in a single, shuddering breath. Just as he'd seen the Elf's past, the Elf had seen his. He knew the full extent of the Soul Eater's transgressions. Yet there was none of the revulsion or condemnation that Krazan would have expected within that pulse of emotion. There was only...

Pity.

Krazan sobbed. For the first time in eons, he let his guard down completely.

And then the Elf snapped his neck.

--

Vul'to opened his eyes.

He groaned, head pounding. Pain lanced through his veins as slowly sat up. A muted yelp blasted into his ear, but when he turned his head, whoever had shouted was already gone. In truth, that was fine – Vul'to wasn't much in the mood for conversation right now. Something else demanded his attention.

With no small amount of trepidation, he checked his Status Screen.

Vul'to

Level: 41

??? Level: ???

HP: ??? / ???

Status Effects: ???

He smiled. Still a few too many question marks for his liking, but...his name was there.

The rest would follow.

Vul'to laid back down, closed his eyes, and drifted off to a restful slumber.