𝐁𝐄𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐈 𝐆𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐀 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐝𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐞

𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗧𝗪𝗢 - 𝗦𝗔𝗟𝗩𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡

Im so happy bro I pulled for Layla and I got her on my first try! I got to raise her to lvl 80 and rn she's at 25k hp

I need to raise her artifacts more plus fight Scaramouche for the boss drops but ughhhh I don't want to that's literally so bothersome and I'm super lazy

But uh anyways- tw for violence, manipulation, and uh Dottore almost dies but he's okay dw

-

The day passed quicker than he thought it would, and he found himself digging his nails deeper into the armrest of the wooden chair. He could smell the scent of his own blood, a sharp sensation coursing through his veins as he continued to dig deeper, his thoughts running wild. He was sentenced to die, and you just had to accelerate the process. The Doctor didn't know if you were stupid or not, but one thing was sure, he despised you. He didn't wish to die, he couldn't. To perish just when he was so close to achieving his goal, to creating the perfect enhanced human. He was right next to the finish line, yet society just had to present itself before him as an obstacle.

And out of all the ways to go out, it would be by burning into nothing but ashes. Now that he thought about it, that would be horribly painful and pathetic. Him, with such high intellect, dying by the stake.

Fate was definitely mocking him.

The doors of the dungeon opened, the edge of the entrance dragging across the stoned tiles of the floor causing his eardrums to ring. He could hear various footsteps approaching, the weight they carried with them making his gut twist and turn. Sweat began to gather on his temple and he gritted his teeth, aware that they had come for him. Today, the strings of his life would be cut short by fate. Oh how he hated fate, always fucking him right in his ass.

His heart was breaking sound barriers with each step those people took, and alas, they unlocked his cell. Strong, unforgiving hands gripped his shoulders so hard that he winced, his body squirming in response as he tried to escape their grasp. As he fought against the chains and the guards, light footsteps glossed across the ground, their movements filled with elegance and pride. The Doctor immediately recognized that these were not, in fact, your footsteps. This stride belonged to no one but the one person who had judged him to no end. The person who had made sure to leave his body painted in nothing but red.

"Grand Priest Bachmann, shall we move the prisoner to the execution grounds?" A guard spoke, the Doctor's suspicions being confirmed. His brows furrowed as he stared at the shadow standing before him, the blindfold not allowing him to glare right at the man who was currently on the Doctor's list of people he would gladly experiment on.

"Yes," The priest turned to the prisoner, his dull grey irises showing a bit of sadistic satisfaction. "You are to be executed for your heretical crimes against our dear church. Do you know your crimes?"

Now, the Doctor would've responded with a snarky comment if it wasn't for the wretched gag on his mouth. So, he concluded that this was one of those rhetorical questions that these priests seemed to enjoy asking.

"You have spoken profane words against our kind Archons, committed blasphemy in the streets of this blessed kingdom and you've even committed the worst sin of all: murder. For this reason, you are sentenced to die by order of the church and the Royal Crown." Father Bachmann held his chin high, his hands tucked behind his back and his eyes staring down at the heretic man who was still struggling against the guards who tried to hold him down.

Eventually, they did get him out of that chair only to shackle his wrists together and his ankles. The chains were more heavier than he expected, and he noticed himself having difficulty to breathe. Perhaps they had chosen these ones specifically for him, to keep him from running away. His lips and eyes continued to be concealed from the world, and he wondered, for a moment, how did they thought to get him to stand in the executing platform.