The days following the councilor's assassination passed quietly, but Eren's mind churned with the weight of his decision. Azrael's presence lingered in his thoughts like a shadow he couldn't shake. He'd become part of something far larger, a web of power and deception that tightened around him with every move he made.
He could sense the shift in the city. Fear had settled in, almost like a palpable fog. Whispers filled the streets, rumors of shadows striking down those who opposed certain powers. The council scrambled for answers, but Eren knew they were chasing ghosts.
Eren continued to hone his skills, diving deeper into Azrael's teachings. His abilities in shadow manipulation grew, allowing him to blend with the dark, to move unseen. Each lesson tore away another layer of his hesitation, and he found himself operating with a cold, detached efficiency.
Yet, as the weeks went on, he couldn't ignore the toll Azrael's influence was taking on him. He had become faster, sharper—but also harder, more unfeeling. Memories of his past self surfaced less and less, and even when they did, they felt distant, like echoes from another life.
---
One evening, Eren met with Niall in a secluded chamber deep within the city's underbelly. Niall looked over him with a raised brow, his expression a mixture of curiosity and approval.
"You've changed," Niall remarked, his voice low. "Azrael's training suits you."
Eren nodded, though he didn't meet Niall's gaze. "I do what's necessary."
Niall leaned back, crossing his arms. "Azrael has high expectations, and he doesn't offer his teachings lightly. You're valuable to him now—a weapon he can wield as he sees fit."
Eren's jaw tightened. The word "weapon" resonated in him, sparking a flicker of something he'd thought long buried. He had once wanted to be a hero, a protector. Now, he was a blade in the hands of a man who saw him as little more than a tool.
"What's next?" Eren asked, keeping his voice even.
Niall's eyes glinted. "There's a council gathering in a few nights. Important figures, the kind who steer this city from behind closed doors. Azrael believes it's time to remind them of their vulnerability."
A wave of understanding washed over Eren. It wasn't just about eliminating a threat or protecting an interest. It was about instilling fear, consolidating power through terror.
He didn't hesitate. "I'll be there."
---
The night of the gathering, Eren stood hidden in the shadows just beyond the council hall. He could hear the low murmur of voices, the laughter, the clinking of glasses. These people, so secure in their power, so certain of their safety—they were oblivious to the darkness lurking at their doorstep.
He slipped inside, his movements precise, his breathing controlled. Azrael's training had honed him into something lethal, an agent of silence and shadows. He could feel the thrill of it—the rush of slipping past guards, the anticipation of his targets just a few feet away.
The plan was simple. A quick, brutal display of force, enough to send a message. But as he neared the council chamber, something tugged at him, a sense of unease he couldn't shake.
He pushed open the doors, his heart beating in time with the silence that followed. The council members turned, eyes widening in horror as they registered his presence.
He moved swiftly, striking with a precision that left no room for error. The scene became a blur—a dance of shadows, screams cut short, the metallic tang of blood in the air. The councilors fell one by one, their expressions frozen in shock and terror.
As the last body hit the floor, Eren stood amidst the carnage, breathing heavily, his pulse pounding. He should have felt satisfaction, perhaps even triumph. But instead, a hollow emptiness gnawed at him, a realization that he'd crossed yet another line he could never return from.
He turned to leave, slipping back into the shadows as the echoes of the councilors' final moments faded into silence.
---
Later, in the quiet of his chamber, he sat alone, staring at his bloodstained hands. He'd known this life would demand sacrifices, that he'd have to abandon parts of himself to survive. But tonight had been different. This hadn't been survival. It had been a message, a declaration of the ruthlessness he was willing to embrace.
He closed his eyes, forcing himself to push away the memories that rose unbidden—the innocent dreams he'd once harbored, the hope he'd once held.
A soft knock at his door pulled him from his thoughts. He opened it to find Azrael standing there, his expression unreadable.
"Well done," Azrael said quietly. "You've proven yourself."
Eren felt a chill settle over him, a sense of finality. He was no longer a novice, no longer a hesitant apprentice. He was Azrael's equal now, a shadow in his own right.
But as Azrael's gaze lingered on him, he couldn't shake the feeling that he'd given up more than he'd gained—that the darkness he'd embraced was slowly consuming him, piece by piece.
Azrael's voice cut through the silence. "Remember, Eren. This is the path you chose. There's no room for regret."
Eren nodded, though his chest felt heavy. He'd chosen this path, accepted the price. But deep down, he couldn't ignore the question that lingered, unspoken.
How much more of himself would he lose before the journey ended?
---
YOU ARE READING
Glass Heart Syndrome
Fantastik[Content Warning: Dark themes, violence, psychological manipulation] ❝Being kind in a cruel world is like bringing a flower to a knife fight.❞ Eren Valen died on Earth believing in the good in people. Too bad his second chance at life didn't come wi...
