Vas clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms as he forced himself to move forward. The memories the voices spoke of were sharper now, more vivid. He saw flashes of his past—moments of chilling detachment, of decisions made with a heart of stone, of faces contorted in fear and pain as he ended their lives without a second thought.

The labyrinth twisted and turned, leading him deeper into its nightmarish depths. The shadows pressed closer, their forms more defined, their eyes glowing with a malevolent light. Vas could feel their gaze burning into him, judging him, condemning him. The air was thick with the scent of blood, and he could almost taste the metallic tang on his tongue.

The whispers became screams, voices overlapping in a cacophony of despair and fury. They accused him, taunted him, tearing at the last shreds of his sanity. The labyrinth seemed to pulse with their anger, its walls closing in as if to crush him under their weight. Vas staggered, his breath coming in ragged gasps, but he pushed forward, driven by a need to confront the darkness within him.

Finally, he reached the heart of the labyrinth, a place where the shadows were so thick they seemed to swallow all light. The air was stifling, suffused with a palpable sense of dread. Here, the voices were deafening, screaming in his mind, tearing at his soul. They spoke of his detachment, of the coldness that had allowed him to kill without remorse, of the emptiness that had hollowed him out.

Vas fell to his knees, the weight of those memories crushing him. But amidst the overwhelming darkness, he felt something—an echo of emotion, buried deep within. It was faint, almost lost beneath the torrent of voices, but it was there. A reminder that, despite everything, he was still capable of feeling. A flicker of guilt, of sorrow, for the lives he had taken, for the connections he had severed.

The shadows closed in, their forms monstrous and grotesque, their eyes glowing with a hellish light. Vas could feel their cold breath on his skin, their claws scraping at his mind, but he did not falter. He had come here to understand, to confront the darkness within himself, and he would not be deterred.

As the final echoes of the voices faded, Vas understood why he had always been able to kill without hesitation, why he could dissociate so easily. It was due to the long forgotten past that he had been longing to learn more about.

Breathing heavily, Vas closed his eyes and let the candle's flame guide him back, the shadows receding as the labyrinth dissolved around him. When he opened his eyes, he was back in his room, the candle flickering softly before him.

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The ritual was complete, but its effects lingered. Vas felt a new weight on his shoulders, the burden of understanding his own darkness.

The ritual had left behind an unexpected side effect: Vas's anima reserves had significantly increased, surging with a power he hadn't anticipated. It was a double-edged sword—this newfound strength demanded greater control. He knew he had to focus on mastering the Anima Pulses to sharpen his efficiency in critical moments when every drop of anima could mean the difference between life and death.

Yet, as he awaited Madeline's call with details on the mission, a sense of unease settled in. His grandfather's people were watching everyone closely. Even if they weren't following him directly, they were shadowing Lily, and with school ending this week, any visit to her house would likely trigger a report back to his grandfather. That would inevitably lead to a series of probing questions, questions he wasn't ready to answer.

The weight of it all pressed down on him, leaving him exhausted in body and mind. But for now, there was little he could do. The day had drained him, and the challenges ahead required clarity and strength. As much as his mind buzzed with concerns, he knew he had to rest. The next steps would require his full focus, and sleep was the only refuge he had left.

In another part of the city, a towering structure loomed above the skyline, its surface entirely made of reflective material that seemed to blend seamlessly with the night. The building's mirrored facade captured the surrounding lights, twisting and warping them into a kaleidoscope of fragmented images, creating an illusion of infinite depth. The structure itself was an imposing monolith, its sharp, angular design giving it a futuristic and almost otherworldly presence. Each floor was defined by sleek, metallic lines, and the building's edges seemed to cut into the night sky, reflecting the stars like shards of glass.

At the topmost floor, a figure stood alone, gazing out of a massive window that overlooked the sprawling city. The figure was unnaturally thin, its limbs elongated and almost skeletal, as if the very essence of life had been drained from its body. The skin clung tightly to its bones, pallid and translucent, revealing veins that pulsed with a slow, eerie rhythm. It stood naked, exposed to the world yet hidden within the shadows of the high-rise. The eyes, hollow and devoid of light, stared unblinking at the city below, as if searching for something, or perhaps, waiting for something to happen.

The atmosphere in the room was thick with a sense of dread, as if the very air had been tainted by the figure's presence. The silence was absolute, save for the faint hum of the building's systems, which only served to heighten the unnerving stillness. The figure's gaze remained fixed, its expression a twisted mask of apathy and malevolence, as if it were a harbinger of something dark and terrible that was yet to come.

"So, what was the result?" A voice resounded in the room.

"We didn't get much information on the target, he easily overpowered the one we sent after him, and the contingency was taken care of by someone close to him" Another voice resounded.

"Ok, keep an eye on the target for now, do not engage"

"Understood"