Mine.

The sound of hurried footsteps echoed through the stillness, cutting through the oppressive quiet of the battlefield. Changra remained kneeling, Berethia's lifeless body cradled in his arms, his tears falling freely. His mind was a storm of emotions—guilt, sorrow, and the faintest flicker of relief that her suffering was finally over.

"Changra?" Jane's voice was the first to break through the haze.

He looked up slowly, his tear-streaked face meeting hers. Jane, Thorne, and Aria stood frozen a few feet away, their eyes wide with shock. Jane's breath hitched as she took in the sight of him—the real him. No longer Kael with silver hair and gray eyes, but Changra. The dark hair, the mismatched blue and crimson eyes, the presence she thought she might never see again.

Thorne's voice came next, breaking the spell. "Changra?" he repeated, his words fumbling with his usual clumsy grammar. "But how—what's happenin' here?"

Aria stepped forward slightly, her usually guarded expression softening in the face of his obvious pain. "You're... it's really you," she murmured.

Changra's gaze fell back to Berethia, unable to hold their eyes any longer. His voice cracked as he tried to speak, but no words came. The weight of everything he had done, and everything he had failed to do, was too much. His shoulders sagged under the burden.

Jane moved closer, her steps tentative, her eyes locked on him. She opened her mouth to speak, but before she could say a word, a voice rang out—a cold, sharp voice that sent a chill through the air.

"Not so fast," the Crimson Dagger declared, its sinister tone slicing through the moment like a blade.

The words reverberated across the battlefield, loud and clear enough for all of them to hear. Changra's blood ran cold as he felt the dagger's presence surge, its dark energy wrapping around him like a shroud. The others froze, their expressions shifting from shock to fear as the air around them grew heavy with the dagger's malevolence.

The Crimson Dagger's voice rang out again, smooth yet laced with malice, reverberating through the air like a sinister melody. "Changra is mine," it declared, its tone filled with unyielding possession. "He belongs to me, and me alone."

Jane, Thorne, and Aria recoiled, their faces etched with confusion and fear. The air grew dense, almost suffocating, as the dagger's crimson glow intensified, casting eerie shadows across the battlefield.

"He is the embodiment of Chaos," the dagger continued, its voice dripping with satisfaction. "Born to disrupt, to destroy, to remake this world as it was always meant to be. And you—mere specks of order—dare to stand in my way?"

Changra's head shot up, his mismatched eyes wide with terror. "Stop," he rasped, clutching his head as the dagger's voice pounded in his mind like a drumbeat. "Stop it!"

Before anyone could react, Berethia's lifeless body began to glow, a faint green light seeping from her form and snaking toward the dagger. Jane gasped, taking an instinctive step back. "What's happening?" she whispered, her voice trembling.

The green light swirled faster, wrapping around Berethia like a cocoon before it was violently ripped away, surging into the dagger. Her body began to disintegrate, fragments of her essence pulled into the weapon as it pulsed brighter and brighter.

"No!" Changra screamed, reaching out in vain as Berethia vanished entirely. The dagger consumed her completely, its glow now a vivid, pulsating red, as if it were alive and feeding.

A sharp, searing pain tore through Changra's head. He doubled over, clutching his temples, his screams echoing across the battlefield. It felt as though his skull was being split apart, his mind invaded by the dagger's overwhelming presence.

"Chaos does not weep!" the dagger roared. "Chaos consumes! Chaos thrives!"

Changra's body trembled violently, his screams growing louder, filled with anguish and terror. The others could only watch in frozen horror, helpless as the chaos unfolded before their eyes.

The Crimson Dagger's voice grew louder, a cacophony of rage and malice that reverberated in Changra's skull like a thousand screaming voices. "Chaos is eternal!" it bellowed, the sound shaking the very air around them. "It cannot be tamed, it cannot be destroyed! And you, Changra, are its vessel!"

Changra's screams intensified as he dropped to his knees, his fingers clawing at his face and arms. He tore at his skin, nails digging deep as though trying to peel away the pain coursing through him. Blood seeped from the jagged lines he left, dripping down his trembling hands, but he couldn't stop. The sensation of the dagger's power coursing through him was unbearable, like fire and ice colliding within his very soul.

"Get out!" Changra screamed, his voice raw and broken, tears streaming down his face as he clawed at himself. "Get out of my head!"

The dagger's laughter boomed in response, dark and mocking. "Your head? Your body? Your soul? They were never yours to begin with, Changra! They belong to me! Chaos demands it!"

"Stop it!" Jane shouted, stepping forward despite the oppressive energy radiating from the dagger. Her voice wavered, her hands trembling as she reached out toward Changra. "Leave him alone! He's not yours!"

The dagger's light flared, casting a blood-red glow across the battlefield. "And what are you to him, Jane?" it sneered. "A fleeting attachment? A distraction? Chaos has no need for such trivial things."

Jane flinched, the force of the dagger's words almost knocking her back. But she stood her ground, her eyes filled with determination. "Changra!" she cried, her voice cutting through the dagger's tirade. "You're stronger than this! Fight it!"

But Changra couldn't hear her. He was lost in the storm of his own mind, his screams growing hoarse as he continued to tear at his skin, desperate to escape the torment. Blood smeared across his face, his hands trembling violently as he clawed at himself with reckless abandon.

"Let it out, Changra!" the dagger roared, its tone almost gleeful now. "Embrace the chaos! Let it consume you!"

Thorne and Aria stood frozen, unable to move as they watched Changra's torment unfold. Thorne's lips moved silently, his usual carefree demeanor replaced by raw fear, while Aria's hands clenched into fists, her knuckles white as she tried to process the horror before her.

Changra's body convulsed, his nails raking across his arms and chest in a desperate attempt to ground himself. But the pain only fueled the dagger's influence, its voice growing ever louder, drowning out everything else.

"Enough!" Jane screamed, tears streaming down her face as she lunged toward Changra, her hands reaching for him despite the risk. "You're not alone! You hear me, Changra? You're not alone!"

But her voice was drowned out by the dagger's laughter, and Changra's agony continued, the battlefield bathed in the eerie red glow of chaos.

Changra's screams pierced the air, raw and filled with anguish as his body began to tremble uncontrollably. The Crimson Dagger's energy pulsed violently, and his mind was dragged deeper into the abyss of his own memories, each one sharper and more vivid than the last.

"Why?!" he screamed, his voice breaking as tears and blood mixed on his face. "Why did you do this to me?!"

The sky above seemed to ripple with the dagger's power as Changra's cries echoed across the battlefield. His fists pounded against the ground, his strength failing as he began to lose consciousness, slipping further into the torment of his past.

"You said you loved me!" Changra shouted, his voice hoarse. "But you lied! You lied, and you hurt me!" He clutched his head as his mother's face flashed before his eyes, her cruel smile etched into his mind. Her words came back to him, sharp and venomous, cutting into his very soul.

"Every day…" Changra whispered, his voice quivering. "Every single day, you took everything from me. You left me broken."

His body convulsed as the dagger's energy coursed through him, feeding on his pain and despair. It forced him to relive the nights his father's drunken rage left bruises that never fully faded. His mother's cold, calculated actions that stripped away any shred of safety or love. He felt it all again, as raw and fresh as if it were happening now.

"You made me do it!" Changra roared, his voice shaking with fury and despair. "You made me kill you! You didn't leave me any choice!" His mismatched eyes burned with crimson light, the dagger's influence taking deeper root in his mind as it amplified his pain.

Jane, Thorne, and Aria stood frozen in horror, unable to approach as the air around Changra warped with chaotic energy. His screams grew louder, more desperate, as the dagger continued its merciless assault.

"You made me a monster!" Changra bellowed, his voice cracking. "And now I can't escape it! No matter what I do, no matter where I go… it's always there!"

The dagger pulsed with an ominous glow, its voice weaving into his torment. "Yes, Changra," it whispered, its tone darkly soothing. "Feel it. Relive it. Embrace the pain. It's who you are. It's who you've always been."

Changra's screams turned guttural as his nails dug into the earth, his body trembling violently. "Stop it!" he shouted, his voice a mix of rage and pleading. "Stop showing me this! I don't want to see it anymore!"

But the memories came faster, more vivid. His father's slurred accusations. His mother's manipulative whispers. The blood on his hands as a child, the night he took their lives just to survive. Each moment seared into his mind, each one a new spike of agony as the dagger's power forced him to confront it all.

"Why won't it stop?" he sobbed, collapsing onto the ground as his strength gave out. His body convulsed, his screams tapering into hoarse cries as his consciousness began to slip away. "Why can't it just… stop?"

The Crimson Dagger's light intensified, the energy around Changra growing wilder and more chaotic as it continued to absorb the remnants of Envy. The battlefield was a tempest of raw power, his cries echoing in the storm of his own broken soul.

Changra's body trembled violently as he clawed at the ground, his screams filled with a pain so deep it seemed to shake the very earth beneath him. His voice cracked, raw and broken, as the words spilled out of him, each one heavier than the last.

"I tried!" he bellowed, his fists slamming into the dirt. "I tried so hard to end it! To make it all stop! To disappear so no one would ever have to look at me again!"

The Crimson Dagger pulsed brighter, feeding on his despair, amplifying the torment coursing through him. The memories came faster now, blurring the line between past and present, his cries growing more frantic with each passing moment.

"I tied the rope!" he screamed, his voice choking on his own sobs. "I took the knife, the pills, everything I could think of! But nothing worked! It never worked!"

Jane clutched her chest, tears streaming down her face as she watched him writhe in agony, his words cutting through her like a blade. Thorne and Aria stood frozen, their expressions pale with shock and helplessness.

"I wanted to die!" Changra sobbed, his voice cracking. "I wanted to be free! But I couldn't even do that right! I couldn't even escape the hell they left me in!"

His mismatched eyes, glowing with the crimson light of the dagger, burned with a mixture of rage and sorrow. "And every time I tried," he spat, his voice dripping with venom, "all they ever saw was a murderer. Just a murderer. No one cared about why. No one cared about me. They just hated me."

The dagger's voice interwove with his, dark and soothing, as it whispered its sinister encouragement. "Yes, Changra. They never saw you for what you could have been. Only for what you were forced to become. And yet, you still live. Chaos endures."

Changra let out a guttural scream, his hands clawing at his face, his nails leaving bloody streaks across his skin. "Why couldn't they just leave me alone?!" he roared, his voice hoarse. "Why did they have to keep reminding me of what I am?!"

He collapsed onto the ground, his body trembling as he sobbed uncontrollably. The dagger pulsed again, its light casting eerie shadows across the battlefield as it loomed over him like a malevolent specter.

Jane took a hesitant step forward, her voice breaking as she whispered, "Changra…"

But his cries drowned her out, his pain too overwhelming, too consuming. The world around him seemed to collapse into darkness, the dagger's power suffocating everything as it fed on the raw anguish that spilled from his soul.

Changra's cries grew louder, more desperate, his body trembling violently as the Crimson Dagger pulsed with its insidious energy. The battlefield felt alive with chaos, the air thick with a suffocating tension. His voice cracked as he let out another anguished scream, clawing at his own skin, blood streaking his face and arms.

"I can't take it anymore!" he shouted, his voice raw and broken. "Just make it stop! MAKE IT STOP!"

Before anyone could react, a surge of light erupted from behind him. A brilliant, shimmering wave of magic cut through the oppressive crimson glow, silencing the dagger's voice for a brief moment. Elara stepped forward, her robes billowing in the arcane wind as she raised her staff, her expression grim and resolute.

"Enough," she said, her voice carrying an authority that pierced through the chaos. She muttered an incantation, her words resonating with power as the spell formed in her hands. "You will not take him."

The spell shot forward, a beam of radiant energy striking Changra square in the chest. His body jolted violently, the crimson glow of the dagger flaring one last time before dimming. Changra's screams faltered, his body collapsing to the ground as the spell overtook him.

As his consciousness began to fade, the Crimson Dagger pulsed one final time, its energy sinking into his body. It fused with him, the dagger dissolving into a stream of crimson light that seeped into his veins, leaving behind a faint, glowing mark on his chest.

Changra's eyes fluttered, his mismatched gaze catching Elara's for a fleeting moment. His lips moved, his voice barely audible as he forced out his final words before succumbing to the spell.

"Bastard," he muttered, his voice filled with bitterness and defiance, a smirk tugging at the corner of his bloodied lips. Then, his body went limp, his breathing shallow as he fell into unconsciousness.

The battlefield grew quiet, the oppressive energy dissipating as the Crimson Dagger's voice faded into silence. Elara lowered her staff, her expression softening as she looked down at Changra's still form.

"It's not over," she murmured, her voice tinged with sorrow. "Not yet."