For years, he had been Pure Vessel, the pale prince, voiceless to scream in pain, voiceless to call out to his king father, expressionless to show love. Created from a king who took a body, blood, and voide fused them into the form of a son he would sacrifice for his own mistake.

The last thing Pure Vessel had seen was his father leaving the temple, leaving him chained to chiseled stone walls without even a glance back at his son.

When the infection finally detached from his body and dripped onto the floor, the days that followed were a blur.

Only pain, only agony as his body was torn apart from the inside out, and the only thing holding it together was your memory.

His screams didn't leave the solid walls that surrounded them until the red mingled with acid orange. Now they had awakened from their first night outside the temple, only able to feel the lingering effects of the infection.

Their chests ached from the sudden emptiness; the infection had left a hole in them. It wasn't that they missed the infection, it was just that its absence was something they never thought they'd experience again.

Their breathing began to quicken slightly as they slowly sat up in bed, feeling their veins burned