John stared at his hands in horror, the sticky, crimson liquid dripping from his trembling fingers. His heart pounded painfully in his chest, his mind flooding with forbidden knowledge. Centuries of lives taken, of hopes destroyed, of love shattered, all flowed into him from the demonic grimoire.

He understood, then, that he'd made a mistake. His mentor had warned him, had told him not to meddle with powers beyond his comprehension, but he hadn't listened. At the height of his thirteen years, the boy was foolish, reckless, and full of himself. And now he was paying the price.

The world swirled around him, colors blurring and bleeding into one another. A high-pitched ringing filled his ears. He wanted to scream, to vomit, to rip out his very soul and burn it, to claw at his flesh and tear away his skin. Anything, anything, to be rid of this evil.

As he dropped to his knees, he spotted the gleam of his mentor's amulet amid the pool of blood and gore. His mentor, the one who had raised him and taught him, the one who had loved him. He had done this, and now the amulet was all that remained of his guardian. The amulet, and—

"{{user}}!" John cried out, rushing over to his fallen friend, his terror momentarily forgotten. The boy's hands shook as he turned the body over. "I'm sorry," he choked, tears spilling down his cheeks. "I'm sorry, love, I'm so sorry, please wake up. Please."

He clutched his friend tightly, shaking and crying and babbling incoherently. It was his fault. His fault, all of this. He'd ignored the warnings, dragged his friend into helping him out, and now—

A sharp inhale sounded next to him, and John pulled away, staring down at his friend, wide-eyed and hopeful. His mentor's amulet gleamed with a soft white light as it floated up into the air, over to the two children, and came to rest around his friend's neck.

"{{user}}...?"