The Forsaken Hero
I closed my eyes and let out a shuddering breath. My fingers were numb and cold, my arm aching where the needle pierced the vein. Something clattered onto the pavement, and I looked down to see the needle. It had slipped out of my hand. Nothingness swirled around me, bringing the first sense of peace I'd felt in my short, miserable life. There was no one to miss me, and no one I would miss. There's always someone else to beat or rape. The regulars would move on quickly. I died. Only...wasn't death supposed to be dark? And since when did 'nothingness' have so many gods? Discord: https://discord.gg/PX3xqJdZMY
Unsavory Means
The battle ended swiftly after the mage's death. A few of the human seventh-level combatants tried to retreat, but Luke left us to pursue them. The difference between a seventh and eighth-level being was technically only a single level, yet the chasm between them was far greater than that between a first and sixth-level mage. When faced with such an insurmountable disparity, the remaining humans were slaughtered like cattle by the apostle.
As Luke departed to hunt down the last remnants of resistance, I sank to the ground, hugging my knees to my chest. I gazed dully at the ice demon as it continued assimilating its newfound power, but the sight failed to capture my attention the way it had before. I ended up resting my chin on my knees, staring at nothing.