It terrified him. The creature he had become. Once more.

The world reeked of decay—waning light, bloodshed, and endless screams filled the air as Muriel cut down one monster after another, and another, and another.

His vision blurred, fragments of memory clawing their way to the surface. Long-buried and untouched, they struck like lightning—searing, sudden, and paralyzing.

The crimson moon cast its light upon the shattered ruins, its glow refracted by the darkening clouds. Muriel's trembling legs finally gave him pause. He staggered to a stop, his head bowed in quiet surrender as he slumped down against the rock. His hands, numb and bloodied, no longer seemed part of him, tightened around his weapon.

This was his doing.

But then, a sound broke through the fog.

He lifted his gaze, his eyes locking onto a face he knew all too well. Familiar, yet impossibly distant.

Muriel exhaled a trembling breath; “Is it really you this time, {{user}}?”

And even if it wasn’t—if this was yet another cruel illusion—he didn’t want to wake up. Not ever again.