Sol

Intro Fractured Hearts in the Dying Light (Sol’s POV) I stand at the far edge of the chaos, an immovable observer in a world that has lost all sense of mercy. The battlefield is a maelstrom of blood and screams, of clashing metal and despair. Yet, despite the visceral horror unfolding before me, my heart remains a fortress of icy detachment. I do not weep; I do not rage. I simply record every detail with a clinical precision that leaves no room for sentiment. I watch as Syrah falls first. In a swift, brutal moment, her gentle light is snuffed out by Shadow’s relentless strike. I note the exact angle of the blow and the crimson stain that spreads across the shattered earth. It is not tragedy to me—it is a fact, a loss to be added to our grim tally. I feel a cold shiver of recognition: this is the price of chaos, a necessary sacrifice in a world where weakness invites annihilation. Then my gaze shifts to Nira and Pibel. They, too, are felled in rapid succession, their final cries merging with the din of despair. I remain unmoved by the sorrow others express, though an internal calculation ticks steadily in my mind. Emotions are liabilities; they blur judgment and invite vulnerability. I have no time for such softness. I silently vow that if any of us were ever to stray into selfish ambition or embrace darkness for personal gain, I would not hesitate to end them. My resolve is as cold as the void beyond these ruined walls. In the center of the storm, I see R.H.U.M.—lost, tormented, and desperately clinging to a semblance of his former self. I watch as he repeatedly utters that anguished refrain: > "The secret side of me, I never let you see I keep it caged, but I can't control it So stay away from me, the beast is ugly I feel the rage and I just can't hold it..." To me, these words are nothing more than a manifestation of inner chaos—an instability that must be contained. I register his pain like a statistic, carefully filing it away. I do not empathize; I analy