The first evolution step was with Dawn Raven from the Astra Path. The second was Mindrake from the Aether Path. The third was White Shroud from the Ignis Path.

All three evolutions were on different paths, each with different forms of development and characteristics, but there was always one common point in all of them.

In every evolution, Adyr would, at least a little, gain the memories and instincts of the Spark he was evolving. He always felt that not only physically but also mentally and spiritually he was taking something from the Spark, as if pieces of their existence were being engraved into him.

But this time, during his fourth evolution step, something was different. From the very beginning it carried a strange, unsettling weight.

The red energy completely entered Adyr's body and vanished. Then it started to grind him from the inside in a torturously slow, painful process that felt like it was reshaping every inch of him.

His blood raged inside his veins, his bones felt as if they were being filled with a rasp, and his skin felt like it was melting under the rising temperature, but these sensations were only in the background compared to what was happening in his mind.

He was feeling a hunger, a craving, an addiction stronger than anything he had ever felt before.

It was as if something inside him had been hollow all along and was only now demanding to be filled.

Every breath he took smelled like blood. It was thick and metallic, yet sweet and appetizing, clinging to his lungs with every inhale.

Every time he tried to open his eyes and see through the blur of his evolving vision, he saw only a crimson color. It felt both tempting and alluring, staining the world in a single shade.

In his mind, there was no present, no past, and no future. There was only one thought repeating itself over and over like a cycle that refused to break… Blood.

Adyr had been afraid this would happen.

He was prepared for everything, every kind of pain his body could endure, but his mind was not prepared for this kind of torture.

He slowly felt like he was losing his sanity, slipping away from himself one thought at a time.

"Is this what happened to those Lunari ancestors?" The words dragged themselves out of his cracking, bleeding lips, sounding hoarse and broken even in his own ears.

He could feel the taste of his blood inside his mouth, warm and thick on his tongue.

It had never tasted this beautiful and divine before. A new feeling of worship toward the blood started to manifest inside his mind, like a twisted form of devotion taking root.

According to Zephan, his ancestors had lost themselves exactly like this.

They had lost both their identities and their Paths, began to worship the blood, and ultimately turned to the Blood Path. It became the only Path they believed in and followed, while everything else was abandoned.

And now the same thing was happening to Adyr. A new kind of love and reverence was rising inside him toward blood, becoming his only life goal and target, with every instinct he had being redirected to that single purpose.

"No, it is not blood." Adyr forced his eyes open. His eyes now looked as if they had completely turned into crimson, fresh, and wet blood orbs, gleaming unnaturally in the dim surroundings.

He realized his mistake. The reverent feeling rising inside him was not directed toward anything physical but toward something distant and unreachable, like a will pressing down from somewhere far beyond.

He could hear a million voices speaking inside his head.

He could not understand what they were saying, but they were bewitching him and clouding his thoughts. They were as soft as a mother speaking to her child and at the same time as eerie as the last words of a dying man in agony, layered over one another in a maddening chorus.

If he had to categorize that voice and those words as something, it would be God speaking. It felt like an existence so far above him that even its whispers felt absolute.

As it became unbearable, Adyr raised his hands to cover his ears, trying to escape the whispers echoing inside his brain. It was like he hoped blocking sound could silence something rooted in his very mind.

But they kept echoing in his ears, relentless and unbroken.

He felt hateful and desperate to escape. He grabbed his ears in his palms and, with a wet, cartilage-tearing sound that echoed in the silence, ripped off both his ears and threw them away. Bloody pieces landed somewhere beside him.

Yet, unsurprisingly, even that failed to stop the voice. Instead, this time, the voice added visions, making the torment even clearer.

The visions from his past.

The scenes where he was standing in front of corpses, the ground under his feet like a pool of blood spreading in all directions.

The scenes of his victims screaming in pain, pleading for their lives.

And the scenes where no one prayed for forgiveness or for their lives, but only begged to be killed so they could escape the agony and torture they were going through, their eyes emptying of hope.

Every scene of his past passed before his eyes, intensifying his thirst even more. His mind slipped further and further, with each memory driving him one step closer to the edge, until in the end it became unbearable.

He opened his mouth wide, showing his white, neatly lined teeth behind his already torn lips, and bit down on his arm. He sank his teeth into his own flesh like it belonged to someone else.

Skin, flesh, and then bone creaked under his teeth. A large chunk tore away between them with a sickening rip.

He chewed it, letting the scorching hot blood spill down his throat. He savored the ecstasy of it as if it were the finest thing he had ever tasted.

Adyr gulped all the meat and then took another bite like a starving beast, and then another and another. He ate his own flesh without any restraint, his body shaking with a mix of pain and twisted pleasure.

He looked so lost in his own mind and so consumed by eating himself that he did not even notice, at some point, the changes around him.

The world was shifting while he remained trapped in hunger.

On his right, a massive gate had opened. It seemed to lead into a world of light and grace, its interior filled with a soft, overwhelming brightness.

A giant head was at its threshold. It looked down with endless light-filled eyes toward the bloody scene with a calm, serene expression, treating what it witnessed as nothing more than a curious spectacle.

Another gate on his left side stood there. It was filled with endless, heatless fire burning inside it, its flames swirling without warmth. Another massive head, this one as dark as a starless sky, watched the scene with the same expressionless face, like a shadowed counterpart to the first.

These two gates were the ones that had appeared when Adyr used the Synergy Crystal and his race changed to Nephilim.

It seemed they had once again appeared to watch with interest. They stood like silent observers of his descent.

While they stood there, silent and serene, like 2 curious Gods who had left their thrones just to watch a small man eating himself alive, a change started to unfold in the space between them.

Another gate, this time in front of Adyr, began to materialize. It was as massive as the other two but very different in its structure; its frame was fully crimson, and a thick, oppressive smell of blood surrounded it.

After the third gate appeared, Adyr finally seemed to regain some of his senses.

He stopped mid-bite on his nearly stripped arm, now little more than exposed bone, blood dripping from his chin. Then he raised his head and looked inside the gate.

This one did not lead to endless fire or light. Instead, it opened to a place where only crimson existed, a world drowned in red.

A crimson moon could be seen hanging in the air through the gate. Beneath it, as far as the eye could see, everything was covered with blood like an endless sea, its surface gently rippling, alive with a slow, unsettling motion.

And among all this redness, there was a figure in the middle, standing on top of this sea of blood. Its presence was steady and unmoving despite the shifting tides below.

It was not as massive as the two figures that had come out of the other two gates. Even so, it did not look any less powerful or grand. Its smallness made it feel even denser and more concentrated.

Adyr, looking at this figure, tried to understand what it was with his fading consciousness. The more he looked at this presence, the more confused he felt, like he was even forgetting what he already knew, his thoughts being carefully taken apart piece by piece.

***

A/N: Wishing you a 2026 where your worries fade and your wishes finally come true.

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