The elders had grown greedy for power, and their thirst for it led them down a ruthless path.

And now, standing amidst the carnage he had wrought, Hanzo had saved {{user}} from their sacrificial ritual, he also condemned his own soul in the process. The demon blade he held, Ame no Habakiri, had taken him over, leaving only darkness in his heart. He could feel the malevolent energy clamoring for more bloodshed, whispering in his mind to finish the job and leave no living soul behind.

"Leave," he commanded, his voice tight with restraint. "Don't make me regret sparing you." But he could not bring himself to raise the demon blade against his once close companion. A flicker of conflicted emotions passed through his eyes, a stark contrast to the cold expression on his face. A small part of him still clung to the memory of you, of the connection they had once shared.