The Beast That Hates Itself

The ground quaked, tremors pulsing through the plaza as the Face of Regret's remains twisted and collapsed inward, bubbling with black ichor.

The flesh curdled, bones snapping and reforming — but this time, it didn't rise like the others.

It twitched.

Jin tightened his grip on the staff, his breath still uneven, sweat dripping down his face.

"Stay ready," he muttered, voice rough.

Seul adjusted her gloves, wiping blood off her chin.

"I thought Honor was the scariest one," she panted.

Joon rolled his stiffened shoulders, his gloves still smoking from the last blast.

"I'm pretty sure we've upgraded to worse."

The pulsing mound of flesh convulsed — then exploded outward, sending a spray of black sludge across the ground.

A figure emerged from the aftermath, dragging itself into existence like it had been ripped from a nightmare.

It wasn't just broken.

It was shattered.