Glass Heart Syndrome

Chapter 25

Days bled into nights, and Eren continued his path, loyal to Azrael, wielding his power with a calculated ruthlessness. He became feared, a specter in the night, his name whispered like a warning throughout Ezura. Yet, the doubt planted by the young woman's words grew, gnawing at him in quiet moments, hidden under layers of defiance.

Eren's gaze was hard, cold, as he trained in the dead of night. The training grounds were empty, his breathing sharp against the still air. He moved through his forms, honing his magic like a blade, pushing past the aches and exhaustion. Every bolt, every strike, had to be flawless. But as the hours wore on, his movements slowed, exhaustion settling deep into his bones. The scars of past battles throbbed, reminders of a journey he'd chosen without hesitation. But now... he felt the weight of every step.

In the distance, he heard a sound—quiet but distinct. He stilled, alert, his senses sharpening. It was faint, the sound of footsteps weaving through the shadows. He turned slowly, energy pooling in his hand, ready to strike.

A figure stepped forward, the flickering light catching on the silver insignia at their collar. Eren recognized him instantly—a council enforcer, one of the elite guards assigned to protect the remnants of the council that Azrael's forces hadn't yet crushed. The enforcer's face was hidden behind a mask, only his eyes visible, cold and unyielding.

"Eren Valen," the enforcer's voice was calm, almost detached. "You've earned quite the reputation."

Eren's grip tightened, his voice a low warning. "If you're here to make threats, you'll leave with nothing but regret."

The enforcer let out a dry laugh. "I'm not here to fight you, at least not yet. I came with a message. Some among the council still believe you can be reasoned with."

Eren raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "They're wasting their time."

The enforcer's gaze hardened. "Are they? You may not care now, but power alone doesn't last. The people remember. And once Azrael is gone, they will come for you. They will make sure your name is remembered, not with fear, but with hate."

Eren's jaw tightened. "Then they should fear me enough to make sure they never get the chance."

"Is that really what you want?" the enforcer asked, his tone softening, almost curious. "To become a monster in their eyes? A tyrant, feared but never respected?"

Eren didn't answer. The words struck close, and he hated the flicker of hesitation they brought. But he couldn't let it show. He forced himself to laugh, a cold, bitter sound.

"I want to survive," he said, his voice a whisper that felt sharper than a scream. "And in this world, survival means being feared."

The enforcer shook his head, a strange sorrow in his gaze. "Then you're already lost, Eren."

Without another word, he turned and disappeared into the night, his footsteps fading into silence. Eren watched him go, his heart pounding with a mixture of anger and something he couldn't name.

---

That night, sleep evaded him. His dreams were haunted by visions of faces he'd long since forgotten, faces twisted with pain and anger. And beneath it all, he felt the pull of something darker, a hunger that gnawed at him—a hunger for more power, more control. Yet the cost of that power weighed heavily on him.

He sat up in bed, the room cast in shadows, the faint light of dawn creeping in. The city outside was silent, unaware of the battles raging within him. But as he stared into the darkness, he realized something he hadn't allowed himself to acknowledge: he wasn't sure how much longer he could walk this path.

A knock on the door broke his reverie. He tensed, expecting one of Azrael's messengers, another order, another task to complete. But when he opened the door, he found himself face-to-face with someone he hadn't seen in a long time—a healer from the outskirts, a woman named Lyra. She had helped him once when he'd been close to death, mending wounds that had nearly ended his life. Her gaze was steady, a flicker of something like pity in her eyes.

"Eren," she said softly. "We need to talk."

He let her in, wary but curious. She stood in the center of the room, her expression unreadable as she looked at him.

"You've changed," she said, her voice barely a whisper.

Eren felt a surge of anger, but he pushed it down, masking it with indifference. "People change."

She shook her head, sadness clouding her gaze. "Not like this. You're walking a path that leads nowhere but darkness, Eren. I've seen it before. Men who think they can conquer everything, only to be destroyed by their own power."

He scoffed, forcing himself to remain distant. "Spare me the lecture, Lyra. I don't need saving."

She stepped closer, her expression softening. "Maybe you don't. But you need to remember who you are, who you were before all this. There's still a part of you worth saving, even if you can't see it now."

For a moment, her words hung in the air, raw and uncomfortably close to the truth he'd been avoiding. But he forced himself to harden, to push away the vulnerability her presence stirred in him.

"You don't understand," he said, his voice cold. "I can't go back. This is who I am now."

She held his gaze, unflinching. "If you believe that, then I truly feel sorry for you."

With that, she turned and left, leaving him alone in the silence of his room. The door closed behind her, and he was left with nothing but the echoes of her words, the weight of his choices pressing down on him.

---

As dawn broke, he stood by the window, watching the city come to life below. The people moved with purpose, unaware of the battles waging above and within them. He clenched his fists, anger and regret warring within him.

He had chosen this path, committed himself to power and survival. And yet, the voices lingered—the young woman's defiance, the enforcer's sorrow, Lyra's quiet pity. They haunted him, each one a reminder of what he'd lost, what he'd sacrificed.

But the path forward was clear. To survive, he had to silence those voices, bury the parts of himself that threatened to weaken him. And so, as the first light of dawn touched the city, Eren steeled himself, burying his regrets and doubts beneath layers of iron resolve.

This was who he was now.