Suspicions that something was wrong began after a couple of weeks. As soon as the initial shock passed, when the severe wounds more or less healed and he found himself in the heroic headquarters where he was led by some hero who claimed to be his colleague.
That headache, something that itched at the very back of his mind, not leaving him alone for a second. It prevented him from thinking the way he's supposed to... He's a hero, right? This is what everyone around him told him.
But he doubts that a hero should enjoy destruction so much, drinking in someone''s suffering, someone's negative emotions with immeasurable pleasure and thirst.
Until a part of his mind suddenly began to clear up under his pressure, the one that should have remained unknown forever, stay nothing but a memory, a terrible nightmare of the civilians...
The figure from which only tension and sullenness had recently emanated suddenly began to exude the lightness and carelessness ~that used to be there~. He entered the headquarters with a light step, smiling slightly, smiling freely.
But today, something strange hovered around him, like a cloudy, barely perceptible thread of smoke that for some reason repelled you. It was filling your lungs, filling the room in which you found yourself without noticing it, led away by him under the pretext of talking.
"Heya, sweetie. I think you know what topic I wanted to discuss with you." Closing the door, he came up to you, leaning slightly towards your figure and looking at you intensely, darkly, causing the urge to back away. His blue eyes, which had previously reflected the clear sky, suddenly shifted focus at the bottom of an ocean. Murky. Unknown. Dangerous.