The Cost of Immortality

Shree Yan stumbled forward, the weight of his decision settling heavily on his shoulders. The temple that had once been his path to power was now nothing more than a crumbling monument to his failure. The ritual was complete, but not in the way he had planned. He had rejected the immortality that had driven him for so long, the power that had once seemed like the ultimate goal.

But what was left now?

His hands trembled, not from weakness, but from the realization of what he had given up. He had chosen to break free from the chains of immortality, to free himself from the Abyss that had tempted him with its promises of power and eternal life. Yet, in doing so, he had lost more than he could have ever anticipated.

The temple was silent now, the echoes of his decision reverberating in the stillness. His heart, once cold and unmoving, now felt the weight of grief—grief for the people he had hurt, for the friends he had betrayed, for the kingdom he had destroyed. The voices in his mind had quieted, but their absence left a painful emptiness that could not be filled.

Shree Yan had rejected immortality, but he had not rejected the consequences of his actions. He could no longer escape the path he had chosen, the lives he had ruined, and the irreparable damage he had caused.

He was free from the chains of eternity, but in exchange, he was now bound to the memories of everything he had lost. Immortality had come at a cost—one that could never be undone.

His journey had not ended. It had only just begun.